Stolen Lullabies
by Luxio Nyx
Summary: "I refuse to live my life an orphan..." They only want to find their parents, only want a normal life... Unfortunately, having the nations as your parents makes this impossible. Summary is fail. Warning: Yaoi, past m-preg, OCs. Don't like, don't read
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so, this is the idea that I brought up a while ago about the children of the nations. It's kind of been at the back of my mind for a while now, and... yeah, so, I just figured I'd give it a try, da? So... love it? Hate it? Review, and tell me what you think!**

**Also, obviously there is implied m-preg in this fic. Don't like, don't read, that's all I'm saying, okay? :-) Review, please!**

Chapter 1

"Ve~! Cisco! Please stay still for a minute!" Italy called after the giggling brown-haired toddler, a slightly wrinkled blue pajama top clutched in his hands.

The two-year-old giggled again and glanced over his shoulder at his mother before continuing to stumble into the living room. Germany looked up as his son entered, his arm still wrapped loosely around the young boy's twin.

"Feliciano, why is Francisco shirtless?" he asked flatly.

Italy pouted and stopped in the doorway to catch his breath, his hazel eyes following Francisco as the boy clambered up onto the couch beside his brother. Magnus watched his twin calmly and shifted to the side to make room for the other boy, his tiny auburn curl bobbing in time with Francisco's identical curl.

Ludwig's lips twitched upwards into a small smile at the sight of the twins, his blue eyes tightening as two pairs of brilliant azure eyes glanced up at him expectantly. He hesitated and glanced over at Feliciano, his eyes narrowing when he saw that the Italian was laughing.

"What do they want?" he asked warily.

"Ve~ I don't know," Italy replied sweetly. "Why don't you ask them?"

Germany frowned again and glanced back down at his sons, wondering how exactly he was supposed to ask the two-year-old twins to explain what they wanted. As if on cue, Magnus magically produced a book from behind his back and wordlessly held it out to his father, his blue eyes glittering with hopefulness. Ludwig sighed and reached out to pick up the book, his lips twitching back into a smile when he saw that it was a copy of Grimm's fairytales.

"Alright," he chuckled. "But only one story. The others will be coming soon."

The twins nodded as if they understood and settled into the cushions of the couch, their gazes locked intently on the German as he began to read. Italy chuckled and slipped quietly out of the room into the kitchen, mentally going through the types of pasta that he could make. Prussia was already in the room, his white head supported on his hand as he glared at the insanely-clean table.

"I can't believe I'm going to be stuck here for a whole day with these damn kids," he groaned.

Italy giggled and ruffled the albino's hair.

"Ve~ But you like our kids, don't you Gilbert?" he asked, his eyes widening into his classic puppy-dog look.

Gilbert just groaned and slammed his head into the table, trying to ignore the Italian's whining. It was bad enough he had to deal with eight kids for about 24 hours...

Ever since several of the nations had begun having children with each other, it had become more and more difficult to organize world meetings. Between the pregnancy itself and the struggle to find someone to watch the young children...

Prussia still had no idea how _he_ had gotten stuck with the task of watching the eight children of the nations. Sure, he wasn't technically a country but he was still _awesome_! How the hell could anyone think that they could have a meeting without him? He blamed West... If Ludwig hadn't let Feliciano volunteer him for babysitting duty...

The doorbell rang, causing a devastated groan to break through the Prussian's lips. Italy gave a pleased "Ve~" and skipped towards the front door, his face breaking into an excited grin when he saw Japan and Greece waiting patiently at the other end of the door.

"Ve~ Buongiorno, Kiku!" he greeted cheerfully.

Japan bowed slightly, his movement slightly hindered by the sleeping three-year-old in his arms.

"Italy-san," he greeted simply. "_Sumimasen,_ are we too early?"

Italy cheerfully shook his head and looked beyond the Japanese man to the small girl standing silently beside Greece, her tiny hand clutching the folds of his wrinkled brown shirt.

"Ve~ Is that Saichi?" he asked. "She's getting so big!"

Kiku nodded, a hint of pride flickering through his brown eyes as he glanced back at his four-year-old daughter. The girl gazed back at him calmly, her olive-green eyes unreadable beneath her short black hair. Heracles shifted tiredly beside his daughter, his identical green eyes flickering towards his slumbering son with a vague sense of nervousness.

"... Should we go inside?" he mumbled. "I don't want Achilles catching a cold..."

Japan nodded and waited for Italy to invite them inside before he carried the boy into the house, his hands brushing gently against the wavy chocolate-brown locks on the top of the child's soft head. The child shifted slightly and blinked up at his mother with sleepy brown eyes before going back to sleep, earning a chuckle from the reserved Japanese man.

"Are you sure that Prussia-san will be able to handle all of them?" Japan asked uneasily. "Do you need one of us to stay here?"

"YES!" Gilbert called from the kitchen.

"No, no," Feliciano cooed, completely ignoring the albino. "It's no trouble! Ve~ Achilles is so cute, Kiku! Do you think he likes pasta? Does Saichi? Magnus and Francisco do! Ve~ what kind of pasta should I make? Macaroni? Linguine? Spaghetti?"

Japan tuned out the ranting Italian and glanced over at the blond German standing in the doorway to the living room, his twins cradled gently in each of his arms.

"Germany-san," Kiku greeted quietly.

"Japan, Greece," Germany replied with a nod.

"...Is anyone else here?" Greece mumbled.

Germany shook his head, a small frown flickering across his face when the doorbell rang again, accompanied by a loud cry of "The Hero is here!".

"Ve~! America's here!" Italy announced. The country skipped back to the front door and pulled it open, his hazel eyes widening in surprise when a girl with messy golden-blonde hair stumbled past him, followed closely by an arguing England and America.

"...I can't believe you would announce yourself like, that, wanker!" England growled. "It's just rude! I thought I raised you better, git... what kind of an example do you think this sets for our daughter?"

"Aw, relax, Iggy, you know Aly's a great kid," America laughed.

England simply rolled his eyes and glanced back down at his one-year-old daughter. Alyson smiled back, her emerald green eyes glittering with amusement. The Briton chuckled and gathered his child into his arms before looking up at the other countries in the house, his cheeks flushing a light pink in embarrassment.

"Er... my apologies for Alf- America's rude behavior," he grumbled. "And... thank you for agreeing to have our daughter in your home during the meeting."

"I was against it!" Prussia called again from the kitchen.

"Shut up, bruder," Germany called back.

America chuckled and started to close the door behind him, only to be stopped by Russia. The Russian offered the American a cool smile and stepped aside to let Canada and a small boy with light blonde hair into the house. The Canadian smiled gratefully at Ivan and offered a hesitant wave to the other countries, his slim hand clasped tightly in the young boy's grip.

"H-hello," he greeted softly. "Um... W-we brought Marc and Katerina."

"Who are you?" Italy asked, slightly confused.

"... Canada."

"Er... so, where is your other child, Matthew?" England broke in, not really liking the dark aura that was now rising around Russia.

"I have her, da~?" Russia said sweetly. The large country pulled aside his coat to reveal a quiet baby wrapped in a bright pink parka. The infant blinked slowly up at her father with large violet eyes before settling back against his chest, causing the Russian to smile softly in response.

"Kesese~ Never knew you were such a softy, Russia," Prussia called, his silver head appearing around the entrance to the kitchen.

Russia glanced over at the Prussian, his dark aura once again rising around him.

"You will take care of Katenka and Marc, da?" he stated sweetly. "I will be... very put out if you don't~"

"Uh..." There was no way Prussia was intimidated by that, no way in hell...

"Oi! _Bastardi_! Open the damn door!"

"Lovi~ Please don't swear in front of Cielo!"

Feliciano beamed and yanked open the front door just as Lovino mumbled something about his son being too young to understand swear words. The elder Italian glared at his twin and stomped into the house with Spain following close behind, an olive-skinned baby cradled gently in his arms. Spain beamed at Italy and waved at the other assembled nations as he entered, earning himself a sullen glare from Romano.

"_Hola, amigos_!" Antonio called cheerfully. "_Lo siento_, are we late?"

"_Nein_," Germany replied wearily, his head already pounding with the beginnings of a headache. The German nation gently lowered his sons to the ground and turned to look at Prussia, who was still huddled in the doorway to the kitchen. "_Bruder..._"

Prussia heaved a heavy sigh and moved into the entryway, his red eyes narrowing when he caught sight of all of the kids gathered in the small hallway.

"How the hell am I supposed to take care of all of these kids?" he grumbled.

"We're not fucking happy about it either, dumb ass," Romano growled. "I swear, if _mio figlio_ gets hurt, I'll send the mafia after your sorry ass!"

Prussia rolled his eyes, his expression changing into a grimace when he caught the other nations' expressions.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he sighed. "You'll all murder me if anything happens to your kids."

"_Oui,_ we will," Canada agreed, his quiet voice surprisingly strong as he tightened his grip on his son. The Canadian offered a small smile to the flustered Prussian and added "But don't worry, Gil, we trust you."

"Speak for yourself, da?" Russia grumbled. Seeing the look on his Canadian lover's face, Ivan sighed and walked forward to hand his infant daughter to the Prussian. He paused for a brief moment beside Matthew, his violet eyes softening when the blonde reached up to kiss his daughter on her forehead.

"We'll see you soon, Katerina," Canada promised quietly.

"Da," Russia agreed, his arms tightening around his youngest child for a brief moment. "Мы вернемся, малышка."

Canada bent down to pull his son into a tight hug, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips when the four-year-old snuggled deeper into his embrace.

"_Soyez bon_, Marc," he whispered.

Marc nodded and pressed a quick kiss to his mother's pale cheek, his violet eyes glancing over Canada's shoulder towards Russia. Russia smiled and reached down to ruffle the boy's hair, his expression soft.

Prussia simply groaned and hastily took Katerina from her father's arms, trying not to shiver at the threatening gaze the Russian was sending his way.

"We will be going now," Russia announced once he and Canada had finished saying their good-byes to their children.

"A-al?" Canada called hesitantly. "Are you and Arthur coming with us?"

America wrinkled his nose at the thought of traveling with Russia but nodded reluctantly.

"Yeah, I guess," he grumbled. The American bent down to collect his giggling daughter, his signature smile flashing across his lips. "Hey, you behave for Prussia, alright kiddo? I'll bring ya a huge hamburger when I get back."

"You will do no such thing," England growled. The Englishman gently pulled his daughter out of America's arms and pressed a hasty kiss to her forehead, his cheeks flushing again when the girl patted the top of his head. "Y-yes, well... Good-bye, poppet. We will return soon."

The good-byes continued as each of the countries said farewell to their children. Prussia struggled to hold back his laughter when Spain pulled both Romano and their son into a gentle group hug, igniting another string of swear words from the furious Italian man. Japan and Greece were more reserved, choosing instead to pull their children into quick embraces before placing them carefully next to Marc. Italy cooed over his twins and continued to ruffle their hair and promise them pasta until Germany dragged him out of the house after Japan.

Ludwig paused for a moment just outside of the door and glanced back at his older brother, a rare flash of amusement appearing in his solemn blue eyes at the sight of the Prussian surrounded by so many children.

"Viel Glück, Preußen," he called flatly.

Gilbert glared at his brother before returning his eyes to the group of kids gathered around him, his arms struggling to balance the two babies that had been placed into his arms.

"So... uh..." he mumbled, not quite sure how to begin. "I guess I just... Um... What do you guys usually do now?"

Magnus wordlessly held out the book that Germany had been reading before, his blue eyes hopeful.

"Er... bedtime stories aren't really my thing..."

"_Sœur est fatigué_," Marc announced, pointing at the slumbering girl in Prussia's arms. "Bed."

Prussia blinked slowly and stared down at the two babies in clutched in his hands. Right, bedtime... Now where the hell was he supposed to put them? The Prussian hesitated before walking purposefully into the living room, his scarlet gaze locking on the sofa in the center of the room. Gilbert nodded in satisfaction and dumped the two babies unceremoniously onto the nearest pillow, earning himself a disapproving glance from the two older children.

"_Non bon lit_," Canada's son argued.

"Kesese, it's what the awesome me's got, kid," Prussia shot back. He turned around and frowned at the other six. "Now... uh... about the rest of you..."

Francisco merely giggled and ran out of the room, a grinning Alyson stumbling close behind him. Achilles watched them go before crawling onto the couch beside the sleeping Cielo, his brown eyes closing almost immediately. Magnus merely pouted and continued to offer Prussia his storybook, his blue eyes pleading. Gilbert groaned and ran a hand through his silver hair, his red eyes narrowing at his nephew.

"I told you, _neffe_, I don't do stories," he grumbled.

"_Uncle lesen_," Magnus mumbled, his expression hardening into stubbornness. Damn, that kid looked like West...

"Look, I already told you-"

A loud scream rang through the house, cutting off the rest of Prussia's sentence. The ex-nation tensed and ran out of the room in the direction of the cry, his eyes narrowing when Marc and Magnus began to follow him.

"Stay here," he barked. "You... what's your name, Japan's kid, make sure everyone stays here."

Saichi nodded wordlessly and grabbed Marc's hand before he could leave the room. Canada's son frowned but pulled Magnus back as well, his sharp violet eyes following Gilbert as the Prussian left the room.

Prussia ran to the stairs, his scarlet eyes flickering upwards when the cry came again, only to be cut off seconds later. Gilbert snarled and hurried up the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest at the thought of what America and England would do to him if their kid got hurt on his watch... Even worse, if _West's_ kid got hurt...

"Cisco?" Gilbert called cautiously, his hands clenching into fists when there was no response. "Uh... Alyson? Yeah, that's your name, right? You two okay?"

Silence.

Prussia gritted his teeth as he reached the top of the staircase, his eyes combing the shadowed hallways for any sign of the two children. Dammit, where were they? If they were playing hide-and-seek, he was going to _kill_ them...

Something shuffled in the darkness behind him, making the albino whirl around. Prussia's eyes narrowed when he saw two shadowy figures hidden in the corner of the hall, his gaze zeroing in on the two tiny bundles cradled carelessly in their arms.

"Hows about you two bastard give back those kids?" Prussia growled.

The two shadows were silent, their arms tightening ever-so-slightly around the two unconscious children. Prussia took a step towards them, his hand floating down to the handgun that he always kept tucked inside his belt. He froze when another yell echoed through the house, his blood running cold when he recognized the voice as Magnus's.

"_Neffe_..." he croaked. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he took another step forward, his lips curling away from his abnormally-sharp teeth in a feral snarl. "_Ich werde dich töten, du verdammter Bastarde_..."

The two figures didn't reply, only watched in silence as the albino was struck on the back of the head by a third companion.

"I told you to stand still," the third figure murmured, his gaze locked on the now-unconscious albino with disgust.

"It wasn't my fault, Randal nearly dropped_ Deutschland sohn_," the second figure murmured in a cool feminine voice, her hands running absently through Alyson's blonde locks.

"Shut up, Gretchen," Randal snarled, his hands tightening around Francisco's small body. "We were told not to speak in our native tongues. Henry-"

"Silence," Henry snapped coolly. "We need to hurry. Have the others gathered the rest of the spawn?"

Gretchen nodded silently, her cool green eyes flickering down to the small girl in his arms. Her own daughter had looked like that...

"Gretchen." Henry waited until the woman had met his blank brown eyes before he spoke again. "Take the German spawn from Randal so that we can help the others. You and Jeanne are going to be in charge of making sure the children make no noise until the job is done."

Gretchen gulped and nodded slowly, her jaw clenching as she made room in her arms for the slumbering auburn-haired boy. She shuddered and slowly followed the two men downstairs, her feet carrying her out the now-open front door while Randal and Henry joined their companions in the eerily silent living room. She paused at the door for a moment, her eyes going to the large framed picture hanging on the wall beside the entry way. The unconscious albino stood in the back of the portrait, his pale arms wrapped tightly around a scowling blonde man's neck. Another man with auburn hair and a strange curl on the right side of his head snuggled close to the blonde man, his slim arms wrapping around the man's thick torso in a death grip. The blonde was the only one facing the camera, although his ice-blue eyes were lowered to the two brown-haired boys sitting on his lap, their identical blue eyes seeming to stare right through her, accusing her...

Gretchen shuddered and glanced down at the unconscious version of one of the boys that now rested in her arms. No, she couldn't feel guilty now... not when they were so close to the end. This was the right choice... The world didn't need such- such abominations...

"Gretchen."

Jeanne had come up behind the other woman, her own arms wrapped around two slumbering infants.

"Henry and Randal have the other four," she reported quietly.

"How- how old are those children?" Gretchen croaked.

Jeanne shrugged, her grey eyes emotionless. "Not even a year. The girl belongs to the Russia psycho."

"...And the boy?" Gretchen whispered, her eyes going unwillingly to the olive-skinned baby that was now staring up at her with brilliant amber eyes.

"The Spaniard and the smart-mouthed Italian."

"...Ah." Gretchen turned away and hurried out of the house, her shoulders shuddering with an emotion that she didn't dare name. They were so small... but they were abominations... they deserved to die... but...

"Come on," Gretchen bit out. She hurried to one of the black cars waiting patiently in the driveway, not even bothering to release the two children in her arms. Jeanne shrugged and dumped the two babies into the back, her eyes flickering over her shoulder as the others filed out of the house. Henry and Randal nodded to her and joined the group at the car. Their lips curled in distaste as soon as they had placed the remaining four children in the car.

"Filth," Randal spat. "They shouldn't even exist in this world. It's unnatural."

"Let's just get this over with," Jeanne said flatly. "Where are we dumping them?"

"The boss paid a man down by the Rhine," Henry murmured. "We just need to take the kids there and then we're done."

Gretchen shuddered, earning a disapproving glare from Randal.

"Why haven't you dropped your share of the shit?" he asked flatly.

The woman shrugged and glared back at him, her long legs taking her around to the driver's side of the car. She shifted the two children into one of her arms and deftly pulled open the door, her gaze flickering down to the kids as she lowered them into the passenger seat. Alyson shifted suddenly and blinked up at the woman, her brilliant green eyes creasing slightly in confusion. Her plump lips fell open into a tiny "o", her head cocking to the side.

It was then that Gretchen made her decision.

"Jeanne," she called quietly. "One of the children are stirring. Go get some chloroform from the other car. Henry, I need you to get another one of the blankets. I'm not going to have my mission ruined because some damn police officer decided to get curious."

Henry nodded in approval and led Jeanne to the other waiting vehicle, leaving Randal behind to watch as Gretchen slipped into the driver's seat.

"What are you doing, bitch?" Randal growled when she started up the car, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Gretchen didn't reply, merely shifted the gear into drive. Before any of her companions could make a move to stop her, her foot had slammed into the gas pedal. The car emitted a high-pitched squeal as it pealed away from the large house, leaving the shouts of Gretchen's companions behind in a flurry of powdered snow. The German woman gritted her teeth and turned the car onto the road, her eyes flickering towards the rear-view mirror every few seconds to watch for pursuers.

"_Bitte, lieber Gott... lass es mich machen_," she whispered.

**Translations:**

(Japanese) Sumimasen- Excuse me/I'm sorry

(Italian) Bastardi- Bastards

(Spanish) Hola amigos! Lo siento...- Hello, friends! I'm sorry...

(Italian) mio figlio- my son

(Russian) Мы вернемся, малышка- We'll be back, little one

(French) Soyez bon- Be good

(German) Viel Glück, Preußen- Good luck, Prussia

(French) Sœur est fatigué- Sister is tired

(French) Non bon lit- Not good bed

(German) neffe- nephew

(German) Uncle, lesen- Uncle, read

(German) Ich werde dich töten, du verdammter Bastarde- I'm going to kill you, you damn bastards

(German) Deutschland sohn- Germany's son


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Cielo Romano Carriedo-Vargas knew that he was dreaming.

After all, it was only in his dreams that he saw so much blood...

The smell of gunpowder and spilled blood was heavy in the air as the young boy ran past the burning ruins of his land. His amber eyes watered at the stench of dead and decaying bodies, his curly dark hair plastered against his face as sweat ran down his skin in thick, salty rivulets. Where... Where were they? Why weren't they here?

Cielo caught himself wondering again who "they" were... then realized that he didn't have to. He knew who he was searching for... Really, it was always the same person... Well, _people_.

There. The boy breathed out a sigh of relief and put on a burst of speed when he saw an auburn-haired man- really more of a boy- standing wearily besides a line of battered soldiers, his ill-fitting armor smeared with blood and dirt, a dulled rapier held loosely in his hand. The man didn't seem to notice Cielo's approach, his amber eyes fixed intently on another man that was being lead away by his own men, his dark head bent over the large silver ax clutched in his hands.

The auburn-haired man shouted something in Italian, immediately grabbing the other man's attention. The dark-haired man flashed a small, soothing smile at the fearful Italian and opened his mouth in a reply, his words inaudible to Cielo.

Cielo frowned and tried to move closer to the two men, his breath catching in his throat when the image started to disappear. No... No, this couldn't be happening... He needed to see them... Needed to _talk_ to them... He needed to know _why_.

_Why did you leave me?_

_Adiós a mi hijo__ …. __Ci vediamo presto ..._

_We love you..._

Cielo eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright in his sleeping bag, his curly dark-brown hair sticking to the thin sheen of sweat on his olive skin. He glanced around him at the darkened room, a low gasp breaking through his lips when he felt someone's hand brush against his own.

The fourteen-year-old glared down at the offending hand, his expression softening slightly when he saw a slumbering seventeen-year-old boy at his side, his brown hair falling across his tanned face in soft waves of chocolate. Cielo hesitated for a moment before brushing a few of the brown locks away from the boy's features. He reached out to touch the other boy's face again, only to freeze when another person brushed against his other side and exhaled a small "Ve~" near his shoulder.

Cielo frowned and turned slowly to glare at the other boy that was snuggled against his side, his amber eyes narrowing dangerously when he saw his sixteen-year-old cousin sprawled carelessly on the floor.

"Francisco," Cielo hissed. "_Svegliare il cazzo, bastardo pigro_."

Francisco Michelangelo Vargas-Beilschmidt stirred and slowly opened his clear-blue eyes to stare sleepily up at his younger cousin, his ever-present curl sticking up on the right side of his auburn head.

"Ve~ That's not a nice way to wake people up, _Cugino_," he mused.

"_Why the hell are you and Achilles sleeping with me, dammit?_"

"...Please stop swearing."

Cielo jumped and blushed as the Greek boy on his other side sat up slowly, his sleepy brown eyes watching the two cousins with a trace of amusement.

"καλημέρα," Achilles Taiyou Honda-Karpusi greeted quietly. "... It is morning, isn't it?"

"_Si,_ I hope it is!" Francisco chirped. "We have school today!"

"_Merda_," Cielo groaned. "I'm going back to bed...

"Eh? But why, _Cugino_?"

"Because I hate school... And stop fucking calling me that!"

"_Verdammt,_ can none of you be quiet?"

Francisco's smile widened at the sound of his twin's voice and he whirled around, his blue eyes meeting identical icy orbs as the other boy glared at them from his place on the other side of the small room.

Magnus Friederich Vargas-Beilschmidt glared back at his brother and ran a hand through his mussed auburn hair, carefully avoiding the small curl hanging limply on the right side of his head.

"_Mein gott_," he groaned.

"Ve~ _Buongiorno, fratello_!" Francisco called cheerfully.

Magnus merely scowled at his brother.

"Please be quiet, _bruder_," he snapped. "You'll wake everyone else up."

"Actually, you four are the last to wake up," Marc Lucien Braginski-Williams called lazily from the doorway, his lips curving upwards into a small smirk when the three of the four boys jumped (Achilles appeared to have fallen asleep again...).

Magnus glanced up at the platinum-blond eighteen-year-old boy standing in the doorway, his cheeks burning when he noticed Marc's sister, Katerina Ivanova, half-hidden behind her older brother, her normally-pale cheeks bright red beneath her bob of wavy light gold hair. Katerina's violet eyes widened behind her glasses when she met Magnus's embarrassed gaze, her blush deepening even further.

"I- I will go into the kitchen and see if Saichi needs help, da?" she mumbled.

Marc glanced down at his fourteen-year-old sister, his own violet gaze softening beneath his silvery-blond locks.

"_Oui_," he murmured. "I'm sure that Saichi will appreciate that, Katenka."

Katerina flashed her brother a small smile and murmured quiet greetings to the other four boys before disappearing from sight. Magnus sighed in relief and disappointment, only to stiffen when he noticed Marc glaring at him.

"_Yeux ma sœur, en allemand_," he snapped. "Now come on. You guys need to eat now, or you'll be late for school."

"Um... What's for breakfast this morning?" Francisco asked warily, silently praying that Saichi and Katerina were the only ones involved in its preparation...

Marc grimaced, confirming the Italian boy's fears. "_D__ésolé_... I'm afraid that Alyson woke up early enough to help with the preparations..."

The three boys that were still awake groaned at the thought and followed Marc into the kitchen with all of the enthusiasm of men going to their executions. Alyson Eleanor Kirkland-Jones was talented at many things... Unfortunately, cooking did not seem to be on her list of talents...

Said girl turned away from the frying pan that she had been bent over as the boys trooped into the kitchen, her emerald eyes brightening behind her glasses as she swept a lock of her thick gold hair behind her ear.

"Hey guys!" she greeted happily. "Dude, guess what? I totally got Sai to let me cook this morning! Isn't this great?"

"_Si_..." Francisco murmured half-heartedly. Cielo merely glared at the petite Asian girl who stood by Alyson's side at the stove, earning an apologetic shrug. Saichi Cassandra Honda-Karpusi hurriedly turned away from the accusing stares of her companions, her moss-green eyes slightly sheepish.

"... おはようございます," she greeted quietly. "Is Achilles still sleeping?"  
>Cielo glanced over at the Greek boy that was basically using his shoulder as a pillow, his olive cheeks reddening into a faint blush.<p>

"U-uh, yeah... lazy bastard, can't we get him to stay awake for longer than a minute?" Cielo muttered. "_Caray_... It's a miracle he hasn't failed a class yet..."

"...I'm awake," Achilles argued sleepily. He raised his head to fix Saichi with a sleepy stare and nodded his head slowly. " καλημέρα, Saichi."

"Achilles-kun," Saichi acknowledged quietly. She cast an anxious glance at the pan that Alyson was supposed to be watching, her brow furrowing when the contents of the pan began to burn. "Um... Alyson-chan? Perhaps you should check this..."

"Huh? Oh, no, it's fine, Sai. That stuff needs to be brown, right?"

"Um..."

"We should start getting ready for school, _oui_?" Marc broke in quietly, his violet eyes glowing with suppressed amusement. "I'm sure none of you want to be late."

Cielo groaned and slammed his head against the table, ignoring the startled glance that Achilles sent his way at the sudden movement.

"_Dios mio_..." he moaned. "Can't I just stay home?"

"_Non_," Marc declared cheerfully.

"B-but, what if... What if the other kids make fun of us again today, брат?" Katerina murmured quietly.

Marc frowned, a deep purple aura rising around him. "They will not dare, _oui_?"

Francisco and Cielo slowly inched away from the Canadian boy, leaving an uneasy Magnus and a slumbering Achilles behind.

"Ah... Please go and get dressed, everyone," Saichi muttered. "I will finish breakfast so you can eat it on the way to school."

Katerina sighed quietly and dragged a protesting Alyson out of the room. Cielo followed reluctantly, leaving Francisco, Magnus, and Achilles behind with the two oldest members of the household.

Marc smiled thinly at the three remaining boys, his purple aura still shimmering around his body.

"You will all watch over _ma petite soeur_, _oui_?" he purred. "You know how I hate it when she comes home sad..."

"V-ve, of course we will!" Francisco mumbled hastily. "R-right, _fratello_?"

"_Ja_," Magnus muttered, trying to hide his own unease.

"... Did you know that there are over 1000 species of cats?"

Saichi chuckled and motioned for the boys to leave the kitchen. She waited until they had disappeared from sight before unceremoniously dumping the contents of Alyson's frying pan into a waiting trashcan.

"Sometimes I wonder if we should have allowed Cielo and Katerina to skip a grade," she sighed. "They are be so out of place in high school, Marc-kun."

Marc sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes soft when he met Saichi's concerned gaze.

"_Oui_," he murmured. "I am worried about Katenka... but it wouldn't have been fair to them, would it?"

Saichi shrugged and glanced at the clock in the kitchen, a small sigh breaking through her lips when she saw what time it was.

"We have to leave for work soon, Marc-kun," she sighed.

Marc frowned and nodded. "I suppose the others can walk to school on their own, _oui_?"

"はい..." Saichi hesitated for a moment and looked down at her feet, her lips pursed in a disapproving expression. "Marc..."

Marc glanced up immediately, his violet eyes wary. "_Oui_?"

"When are we going to tell them?" Saichi whispered, her green eyes flickering towards the entryway every few seconds to make sure that none of the others were listening.

Marc's expression hardened and he looked away, his jaw working. "...Not yet."

"You've been saying that for years, Marc," Saichi hissed, a rare flicker of anger in her eyes. "You _promised_ that we would find-"

"I _said_ that we would find them when we were ready," Marc interrupted.

"And you think that we are not ready now?" she snapped.

"Look around you, Saichi," Marc growled. "Do _you_ think we're ready? We're barely able to pay the rent most of the time, and we were only able to rent this apartment because Cielo forged false Ids for the two of us that made the landlord think that we were 18. Granted, it's better than that damned orphanage..."

Saichi shuddered at the memories of the hellhole that they had been forced to live in for most of their lives.

"Do not mention that place," she whispered.

Marc's expression softened and he reached out to brush his hand against her cheek, only to draw back when the girl shied away from his touch.

"_Je suis d__é__sol__é_," he sighed. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice quiet. "We _will_ find our parents again, _ma cheri._ I promise you."

Saichi sighed and nodded slowly. "Soon, Marc-kun. Our siblings will not be satisfied for much longer with fuzzy memories."

"No, I do not think that they will..."

XXX

"Kat?"

Katerina glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Cielo's voice, her violet eyes darkening in concern when she saw the nervous expression on the other boy's features. She slowed her steps, allowing Alyson, Achilles, and the twins to walk past her, one of her slim hands reaching up to brush an errant strand of hair behind her red and white headband.

"What's wrong, Cielitka?" she asked quietly.

Cielo chuckled at the Russian girl's term of endearment and cast a wary look at their other three companions up ahead.

"I... didn't sleep well last night," he muttered, his amber eyes lowered towards the litter-strewn concrete sidewalk.

Katerina frowned and bit her lip. "Another... vision?"

"_S__í_," Cielo sighed. "It was... about a war again."

"Did you see them, though?" Katerina demanded fervently, her eyes widening.

"I- Yes," Cielo whispered, his expression almost wistful. "I saw them... I wish I knew who they were, though."

Katerina sighed and nodded sympathetically, her muscles tensing when Alyson bounded back towards them, her thick blonde hair drawn up into a messy ponytail on the back of her head.

"Hey, what're you guys talkin' about?" she asked, her emerald eyes glittering curiously behind her wire-rim glasses.

"Cielitka had another dream," Katerina murmured honestly, earning herself a small glare from the dark-haired boy.

Alyson frowned and met Francisco's curious gaze as the twins and Achilles paused to listen to the conversation, her lips tightening into an anxious line.

"Yeah... I had one, too," she muttered. "Was yours sorta... I dunno, violent?"

"_Si._" Cielo nodded curtly. "...Has anyone else been... dreaming?"

"Da," Katerina broke in, surprising the others. "Mine are always lonely, though... And cold. I do not see anyone, only two men."

"Ve~ What do they look like?" Francisco asked curiously.

Katerina shrugged, her pale cheeks reddening as she buried her face in the folds of her red scarf, her fingers toying with the small white maple leaf embroidered on the edge of the scarf.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "I can never see the faces... Only their outlines. Sometimes I can hear voices, though."

"I can't hear anything in mine," Alyson muttered. "I can only see... And it's always these two guys."

"_Mismo_," Cielo muttered. "Does one of them have hair like mine?"

"No, both of mine are blonde... Actually, the one has hair the exact shade as mine."

"Mine seem to be blonde as well," Katerina added quietly. "B-but I think one of them has silvery hair like брат."

"Can we stop talking about this now?" Magnus interrupted curtly, his blue eyes trained stubbornly on the sidewalk ahead of him.

"Ve? _Ma ... perché, fratello?_" Francisco asked quietly, his identical blue eyes creased in confusion beneath his auburn hair.

Magnus shrugged stiffly and continued on his way towards their school, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Why should we dwell on dreams?" he snapped. "They're not real... They don't help us. They don't do anything for us except make us wish for what we can't have."

"T-they help me," Katerina argued, her chin raised defiantly. "T-they make m-me hope... A-and, b-besides, w-what if they're visions of my p-parents, eh?"

Magnus stopped short and glared at the ground, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

"That's impossible," he growled. "Most of us weren't old enough to have developed any memories of our parents... Especially you, Cielo, and Alyson. Besides, all three of you say that you only see men."

"B-but M-marc and Saichi always told us that our parents were d-different-"

"_I don't care_!" Magnus growled, his icy blue eyes flashing with anger. "I don't care how different my parents were or how they looked. Why should I? It's obvious they didn't care enough about any of us to keep us around."

"_Chiudere l'inferno up_!" Cielo snarled. "Stop acting like you know everything, _bastardo_! You don't know anything!"

"Neither do you!" Magnus yelled.

"Stop!" Achilles shouted, his brown eyes glowing with barely-concealed anger. "This isn't the time for arguing..."

Magnus glared at the Greek boy and pushed past him, his auburn hair swirling in the cold winter air. Francisco cast an apologetic glance at the others and hurried after his twin, leaving Achilles and Alyson to calm a tearful Katerina and a furious Cielo.

"Hey, don't cry, okay?" Alyson said anxiously. "You know none of that crap was true... Magnus is just an idiot, okay? Of course our folks loved us!"

"B-but... h-he looked so angry," Katerina sniffled morosely. "I-I d-don't like it when h-he's angry..."

Alyson shook her head and exchanged a knowing look with Cielo, her slightly-thick eyebrows creased with concern.

"We'll... We'll talk about this later, m'kay?" Alyson sighed. "Now, c'mon, let's get going before we're late... I don't wanna get detention again, alright?"

"_Ma per favore_, you'll probably land in detention without our help," Cielo snorted.

Alyson merely shoved the boy and wrapped a comforting arm around Katerina, her green eyes brightening when the smaller girl offered her a small smile.

"Спасибо, двоюродный брат," Katerina mumbled.

"No prob, cousin," Alyson chuckled. "Hey, Achilles, you still awake? Maybe Cielo could carry you~."

Cielo blushed a furious red and stomped after the two girls with a sleepy Achilles in tow, his eyes flashing when he caught sight of the smug smirks that Alyson was sending his way.

_Damn that stupid American..._

**Okay, Chapter 2 is up! Um... Yeah, sorry for two things on this one. **

**1: I'm sorry that there really aren't any nation appearances, in case you were hoping for 'em, but... Well, this fic is kind of devoted to the kids, so I figured that I was better off making them the center of attention. Don't worry, though, we'll have some nations making appearances in another chapter or two.**

**Also, 2: I'm sorry if this seems like a filler or something.. I had major writer's block trying to figure out how to show how the kids are living. Basically, in case you were totally confused, they're renting an apartment that's way too small for all of them in some nameless town, and they only managed to leave this awful orphanage a few years ago thanks to Cielo's skills at forging fake Ids (He's Romano's son, what did you expect?)**

**On another note, I also decided to make each of the kids represent a city/area in their parent countries. These will be revealed later on, but for now I am just going to put a list of the kids and their parents so you can keep 'em straight!**

GerIta: Magnus Friederich Vargas-Beilschmidt and Francisco Michelangelo Vargas-Beilschmidt (both 16)

USUK: Alyson Eleanor Kirkland-Jones (15)

RusCan: Marc Lucien Braginski-Williams (18) and Katerina Ivanova Braginski-Williams (14)

Giripan: Saichi Cassandra Honda-Karpusi (18) and Achilles Taiyou Honda-Karpusi (17)

Spamano: Cielo Romano Carriedo-Vargas (14)

**Well, thanks to all of the people who reviewed so far! Please keep reviewing and tell me how I'm doing! (That did not rhyme... nope, no rhymes...)**

**Sorry for the insanely long A/N... I promise I'll be done after I put down the translations!**

Translations:

(Spanish) _Adiós a mi hijo- _Good-bye my son

(Italian) _Ci vediamo presto-_ We'll see you soon

(Italian) _Svegliare il cazzo, bastardo pigro- _Wake the fuck up, lazy bastard

(Italian) _Cugino_- Cousin

(Greek) καλημέρα- Good Morning

(Italian) _Merda_- Shit

(German) _Verdammt-_ Dammit

(German) _Mein gott_- My God

(Italian) _Buongiorno, fratello_- Good morning, brother!  
>(German) <em>Bruder<em>- brother

(French) _Yeux ma sœur, en allemand_- Eyes off my sister, German

(French) _D__ésolé_- Sorry

(Japanese) おはようございます- Good morning

(Spanish) _Caray_- Geez

(Spanish) _Dios mio_- My God

(French) _ma petite soeur_- my little sister

(Japanese) はい- Yes

(French) _Je suis d__é__sol__é_- I am sorry

(French) _ma cheri_- my dear

(Spanish) _Mismo_- Same

(Italian) _Ma...__perché, fratello?_- But... Why not, brother?

(Italian) _Chiudere l'inferno up_!_- _Shut the hell up!

(Italian) _Ma per favore_- Oh please


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 4

"Hey, Artie?"

Arthur Kirkland looked up at the sound of America's hopeful voice, his lips struggling to turn upwards into a reassuring smile for his longtime lover.

"What is it, Alfred?" he asked quietly.

Alfred F. Jones sighed and reached out to clasp England's shoulder with his hand, his strong arms gently-but-firmly pulling the Briton away from the doorway that he had been standing in for the past hour.

"We were supposed to pick up Mattie and that Russian ten minutes ago," America murmured with forced cheerfulness. "How long were you planning on staring at... that room."

England shrugged, ignoring the usual stab of annoyance and sadness that pierced his heart when America refused to talk about their missing child. "A part of me wants to stare at _Alyson's_ room for as long as it takes... Until she comes back to us."

America flinched visibly at the mention of his daughter and looked away, his bright blue eyes blinking furiously behind his glasses. He carefully avoided looking into the dusty old bedroom that England found so fascinating, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

"It's been fourteen years, Iggy," he sighed.

"Does that mean that you've given up?" Arthur snapped, his voice sharper than he had intended it to be.

Alfred shrugged miserably and ran a hand through his hair, taking care to avoid Nantucket.

"I... I don't wanna give up, Arthur," he croaked, his voice breaking half-way through the sentence. "You think that I don't want to see her again, too? God... She was- she was my little kid, Artie..."

England blushed a furious red and wrapped one of his arms around America's shoulders in an awkward hug. America sniffled and buried his head in Arthur's tousled golden hair, tears leaking beneath his glasses to run through the Brit's tangled locks.

"Shh," England murmured. "I know, luv."

Alfred took a deep, shuddering breath and forced himself to regain control of his emotions. He slowly pulled away from his lover and offered Arthur a weak smile.

"W-we should go and p-pick up Mattie," he muttered. "Before that commie bastard gets ticked at us for being late... You know I hate it when he lectures."

England chuckled dryly and leaned forward to press a light kiss to the American's cheek.

"Fine," he whispered. "But I'm driving. You bloody Americans are awful drivers, and I would rather not get arrested before the meeting tomorrow due to _someone's_ awful temper."

"Hey, that dumbass had it coming! I mean, who the hell pulls out in front someone like that?"

England smiled despite himself and dragged America out of the house, trying to push the memories of his daughter behind him for the time being.

XXX

Matthew Williams knew that something was wrong when he saw Ivan Braginski's vodka bottle abandoned on the kitchen table.

The Canadian sighed and put down the plate of pancakes that he had been devouring, his lilac eyes drifting towards the living room of their New York City apartment. He frowned when he saw Russia sitting on the couch in front of the television set.

"I-Ivan? What're you doing, eh?" Canada asked quietly.

Russia shrugged listlessly and offered his boyfriend an emotionless smile. "I am watching the hockey game, da? My team is playing one of America's... I want to make sure that they beat him."

Matthew frowned and walked slowly into the living room, his eyes narrowing when he caught sight of the television screen.

"The game's been over for hours," he said flatly. "You're watching British soccer."

"Ah..." Ivan chuckled darkly and leaned back in his seat, his eyes fluttering closed as Matthew crossed the room to turn off the television. "I suppose I should have noticed that..."

Canada winced at the dead tone of Russia's voice and settled beside the larger country on the couch, his eyes watching Ivan warily.

"You know Alfred and Arthur are late picking us up," he murmured, hoping desperately that any mention of one of his brother's mistakes would create the usual reaction in his Russian lover.

Ivan merely shrugged listlessly and offered Matthew a tiny smile. "I suppose everyone must be late at some point, Matvey. We were..."

Canada flinched and turned away, missing the guilty look that flickered across Russia's face a moment later.

"We were early, actually," he whispered hoarsely. "Remember? Y-you c-couldn't bear t-to be away fr-from Katerina and Marc for so long..." The Canadian's voice broke and he buried his face in his shaking hands.

As if on cue, a small polar bear slipped quietly into the room and pulled itself up onto the couch beside the Canadian. Kumajiro allowed Matthew to pull him into a tight hug, his black eyes focused accusingly on Ivan's pale face.

"Stop bringing it up," the bear said flatly.

Russia sighed and nodded, not even bothering to be annoyed by the fact that a polar bear was telling him that he was wrong.

"I'm sorry, Matvey," he whispered.

Canada smiled tremulously at Russia and allowed the taller man to pull him into a loose embrace, his thin face pressed against the warm folds of Ivan's scarf.

"I m-miss them, t-too, you know," Matthew croaked. "A-and I k-keep thinking about what would have happened... i-if we had gotten there earlier... if we could have saved them..." The Canadian's shoulders began to tremble with suppressed sobs, causing Ivan to tighten his grip on the smaller country.

The two countries remained silent for a long time, their arms wrapped around each other in an embrace that spoke more than words ever could. Russia stared down at Canada's light-blond head, his violet eyes tightening as he remembered how Matthew had beamed when he realized that their only daughter had inherited his gold locks, remembered the glow of warmth that had gone through Russia the first night they brought their second child home, the first time he saw his family together and vowed to protect them.

"I failed," Ivan sighed, not realized that he had spoken aloud until Matthew glared up at him with fiercely protective lilac eyes.

"No you haven't," Canada insisted. "You've worked as hard as anyone to find our children. You kept searching even after others told you that it was hopeless. You put aside your disagreements with Al for over a decade to make our chances better... You even told off that insane sister of yours when she got in the way of one of our investigations! Ivan-"

"But I haven't found them," Russia interrupted harshly. "I still don't know where they are, or if they are alive... If they had changed their names, I would know it. I don't know anything, Matvey, and it... it scares me."

Matthew visibly deflated and leaned into the Russian again, the frames of his glasses pressing against Ivan's skin beneath his thick coat.

"W-we will find them," he insisted quietly. "W-we will! _Nous devons_...(**We have to...**)"

Russia shuddered at the raw, desperate hope in Canada's voice and pressed his face into the crook of Matthew's neck, breathing in the warm smells of pancakes, maple syrup, and sunlight that were a constant part of Canada's scent. For a brief moment, her wished that he could possess even a fraction of Matthew's unceasing hope, that all of his doubts could leave him for good and bring him the peace he had longed for ever since he walked into Germany's ruined house to find his children missing.

"Da," he said in a hushed tone. "We will find them. я обещаю. (**I promise**)"

Canada smiled into Russia's coat and straightened as the sound of the doorbell rang through their silent house, his pale pink lips curving upwards into a pleased smile when he saw the look of displeasure on Russia's round face.

"Looks like my brother finally came," he observed.

XXX

Gilbert Beilschmidt slipped quietly out of the hotel that his brother and most of the other nations were staying at before the meeting, a low sigh of relief breaking through his pale lips when he managed to get out of the intricate front doors without running into Ludwig. It was getting increasingly awkward being around his younger brother now, especially since the fourteenth anniversary of his nephews' disappearances had passed less than three days ago...

Prussia shook himself and forced thoughts of the missing children out of his mind, his jaw clenching.

All of the nations involved had insisted that they held no grudges against him for what had happened to their children (although Gilbert still insisted that Ivan Braginski was plotting his death), but Prussia couldn't help the guilt that had stayed with him ever since he had woken up in Germany's empty house to find the children gone, ever since he had nearly torn the place apart searching for his nephews and their playmates and realized that he had failed for protect them..

"_Mon ami_? (**My friend**?)"

Prussia glanced up, his usual cocky grin lacking its usual luster when he caught sight of the Frenchman leaning casually against a gleaming silver BMW convertible at the side of the road. France smiled back, his blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully behind immaculate honey-blonde hair.

"Stop tearing yourself up with guilt, Gilbert," France called quietly. "It will not bring them back."

Gilbert shrugged and silently threw himself into the passenger seat of the car, his red eyes falling closed beneath his silver hair.

Francis had been another country that refused to blame him for the tragedy. Although Gilbert's mistakes had cost the Frenchman two so-called "grandchildren" and nearly destroyed their mutual friend, Antonio, Francis had insisted that none of it was Gilbert's fault, that the children would someday be found, that everything would work out.

Eventually, though, even France's eternal optimism had worn out.

"_Ich brache ein Bier_ (**I need a beer**)," he announced. "And someone to hit."

Francis chuckled and nodded, his smooth white hands already putting the care into gear.

"I have just the place..."

XXX

Francisco Michelangelo Vargas-Beilschmidt watched with narrowed eyes as his twin approached the ring, his hands playing restlessly with the sweat-soaked towel that he clutched in his hands. Magnus had dragged them to the fight club immediately after school ended, his features set into that rare look of passionate determination that showed even the most unfamiliar observer why the Vargas-Beilschmidt brothers were considered identical twins. At times Francisco wished that he could snap a picture of himself and Magnus when his twin was in that impassioned mood of his, just so he could have proof that there were times when he and his brother actually thought alike.

Magnus had moved to the center of the ring, his arms- more muscular than Francisco's- folded defiantly across his bare chest as his opponent materialized from the crowd of drunks, addicts, and compulsive gamblers that had gathered to see the outcome of the fight. If Francisco took the time to search, he would have easily caught sight of his cousin Cielo's dark head among the throngs of enthusiastic fans as the younger boy slipped among the adults making bets and collecting money. Francisco wondered for a brief moment if Cielo had convinced Alyson and Katerina to remain upstairs this time, or if he had given in again and allowed the girls to trail him through the crowds as Achilles was doing. He hoped that the girls had stayed away from the fight. It made him uneasy to think of the innocent Katerina and naïve Alyson unprotected among the crowds...

"Match 15: The Berlin Menace versus The Blood."

Francisco stiffened and eyed the two fighters as the match began, his lips quirking upwards into a small smile when he saw the tightening of his brother's jaw. He had helped Magnus create the alias he used in the fighting world years ago, and use of the name never failed to give him a sense of pride and fear whenever it was uttered. His _fratello_ was a strong fighter and was had never been beaten by these amateur drunks and addicts... But Francisco found that he could never quite get rid of the urge to protect his brother whenever he watched Magnus get the inevitable injuries, whenever he watched other fighters get carried out of the ring in tangled, bloodied heaps and realized that his twin could be next.

A loud shout erupted from the crowd when Magnus's opponent, the Blood, swung a neat right-hook at the teen, his knuckles colliding with the side of Magnus's auburn head. Magnus's ice-blue eyes tightened infinitesimally as he dodged another blow, his slim fingers curled into fists raised protectively in front of his chest. The Blood smirked at the small sign of his opponent's discomfort and allowed Magnus to aim a clumsy lunge at his throat, his scarlet eyes glinting in an unseeing savage glee. Francisco shuddered involuntarily when the fighter's blank red gaze passed across his face, his own blue eyes taking in the man's pure white hair and scarred white chest. Was this man a professional fighter? Magnus wouldn't stand a chance if he was...

The pale man, the Blood, landed another blow on Magnus, as if proving Francisco's doubts correct. Out of the corner of his eye, Francisco saw flashes of blonde hair drawing closer to the ring as Alyson and Katerina fought their way to the front of the crowd, their expressions anxious. He cursed silently and turned back to the fight, his lips pressing together in a suppressed shout as Magnus was nearly knocked to the ground by another right-hook and a well-aimed kick. Magnus shook off the blow and straightened again, his eyes meeting Francisco's for a brief moment. The twins nodded to each other in silent encouragement before Magnus's attention was reclaimed by his opponent. Magnus leveled a steady gaze as a response to the albino fighter's savage glare, eliciting a fierce flash of pride in the heart of Francisco. His twin was strong, he would not fall to such a show-off.

He couldn't.

XXX

Magnus Friederich Vargas-Beilschmidt forced his face to remain expressionless as he stared down the albino that he had been assigned to fight, strands of his auburn hair sticking to his sweat-streaked face as the fight rolled on. The albino seemed to sense his weariness and began to attack him with more carefully-aimed blows that were harder to dodge. Magnus huffed as one of the blows barely missed his curl and allowed himself a small glare. The Blood sneered and leaned closer, allowing his guard to slip for a brief moment.

"Give it up, kid," he whispered, his German accent more pronounced in the heat of battle. "I'm a legend."

Magnus stiffened as the sound of the voice shook something deep within him, forcing images that he had tried to suppress to the surface... images of a man with his hair cooing over him, while another man with his eyes watched them with a quiet sort of affection. Another image came to him, one of an albino that would joke and ruffle his hair.

_Your pretty awesome, neffe (__**nephew**__)... Almost as awesome as me!_

Magnus snarled and slammed his shoulder into the albino's chest, driving the fighter farther away from him. His control snapped and he glared furiously at the other fighter, his chest heaving. Why? Why had those images, those memories, come back to him _now_, after so many years of struggling to keep them hidden? Why did they have to torment him with memories of people that he would never see again, never know?

The albino was looking at him, his head cocked to the side in a mixture of confusion and emerging triumph. He thought that he had won, that Magnus was giving up...

_I'll show him, verdammt_.

Magnus snarled and lashed out at the albino again, his lips curling in satisfaction when the blow connected with pale skin and sent the other man reeling. He followed with another shove and a second blow, this one to the man's arrogant nose and jaw. He heard Francisco let out a low cheer from the outside of the ring, heard Katerina's quiet cry of happiness below Alyson's loud yell of victory, and felt his heart swell with a familiar sensation of purpose. This was why he did this, this was why he fought. Every fight he won brought more money to these children, the only family that he had ever knew.

Every man that he sent to the ground brought another day of food, lifted a little more weight from the shoulders of Saichi and Marc.

The albino snarled, fury rising in his scarlet gaze. A veil seemed to be lifting off of his eyes, giving Magnus the sense that the fighter was finally seeing what was happening in front of him, that what had happened before were the results of instinct and reflexes drilled into him through years of practice. A small flicker of fear built up inside of Magnus as he wondered what this man could do when he really put his mind to it...

_I cannot show fear, I will not be afraid... That is the first sign of weakness..._

A blond man with his blue eyes appeared again in the front of his mind, his features firm yet gentle as he knelt in front of Magnus.

_A person can never be weak when he fights for the right cause._

_ I fight for my family..._

The albino had struck him again, but Magnus barely noticed the blow. The blond man with his eyes disappeared, leaving a hole in his stead. Magnus hissed and punched the albino that had brought up these memories and forced them away, his light blue eyes flashing with a raw fury before he schooled his expression into a coolly determined mask. The albino's red eyes met his own for a brief moment... and the other fighter froze.

Magnus paused as well, his brow furrowing in confusion as his opponent stared at him, his pale lips hanging open, his scarlet eyes widening as if he had seen a ghost. With a suddenness that surprised him, the albino tackled Magnus to the ground and crouched over him, his beer-laden breath invading Magnus's senses as the other man stared down at him.

"...You," the man croaked. "Oh God... Oh my God, you... How- Oh my God..."

"_Was zur Hölle?_ (**What the hell?**)" Magnus hissed, trying to ignore the fear that was trickling through him. "_Was ist Ihr Problem, du Arschloch?_ (**What is your problem, asshole?**)"

The albino choked out a low laugh and playfully ruffled Magnus's sweaty auburn hair, his red eyes strangely wet.

"_Gott_ (**God**), you're so much like West," he chuckled. His expression darkened suddenly and he looked around at the crowd of people that were watching them, his eyes seeming to zero in on a small group at the front of the mob. Magnus followed his gaze, his heart sinking when he saw his friends huddled near the edge of the ring, Katerina and his brother at the front. Damn, he hadn't wanted any of them to see him so helpless... especially not Katerina...

"You're all here," the albino breathed, immediately drawing Magnus's attention. "Except... _Nein_, there were two others, weren't there? Why aren't they- And what the hell are you doing in this shithole anyways? West would kill us both..."

The albino shook his head and glanced around again, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to remember that they were in the middle of a bloodthirsty crowd. The man snorted when one of the crowd called out to him, ordering him to finish the fight. Without another word, the albino stood up. He glanced down at Magnus and offered him a pale hand, which the teen warily accepted. The albino smiled sadly at Magnus's obvious wariness before turning to the crowd, his lips curling into an irritatingly-cocky smile.

"The Awesome Me has decided to forfeit," he announced cheerfully.

There were a few groans and several stunned stares at the two battered fighters as Magnus and the albino were hustled out of the ring to make room for the next competitors. Magnus sighed and started to make his way towards his siblings, only to be stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. The albino leaned over and placed his lips near Magnus's ear, his scarlet eyes intense.

"Promise to meet me upstairs in five minutes. Bring your friends and your brother. There's something that I need to tell you..."

Magnus stiffened and glared at the other man, fully prepared to say no.

And then, for some insane reason that he would never fully understand, he felt the following words break through his lips:

"...I promise."

The albino breathed a sigh of relief and ruffled his hair again, his expression unusually soft.

"_Danke_ (**Thank you**), Magnus," he whispered before disappearing into the crowd.

Magnus stayed where he was, his wide blue eyes locked on the place where the albino had stood until Francisco and Cielo reached his side, their concerned inquiries and furious swears finally pulling him from the thought that had been ringing in his ears since the albino had left him.

_How did he know my name?_****

**Yes! The plot finally starts rolling again! Okay, to be honest, I really wanted to get this up yesterday, but I ended up stuck in this awful place with no internet... ugh.**

**Okay, so I actually have a serious thing to put in this A/N, shocker though it may be.**

**Um, I don't know if this is conventional or not, but I would like to ask anyone who reads this to please keep my speech coach and his wife in their prayers/thoughts (I honestly don't care what kind of prayers or thoughts they are, every religion is good in its own way in my opinion). See, my speech coach's wife just learned that she has cancer, and it's pretty serious, and there are some doubts as to whether or not she'll make it. However, neither she or my coach is giving up, so neither am I. And that is why I am asking you guys to please remember them, because I hope that with more people thinking of them... well, maybe it'll all work out okay.**

**So please, if you want to, please remember them and pray for them or think of them or whatever... That's all I ask.**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story so far, and thanks to the people who favorited it. Hope you all had a great Christmas/Hanukkah/whatever you celebrated and New Years! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 5

"Prussia!"

Gilbert winced and glanced over his shoulder as he made his way upstairs, his lips curving into a small smile when he saw Francis following him, his blue eyes stunned beneath his honey blonde hair. France froze for a brief moment when he saw the smile, his eyes widening in shock.

"Did you... _Oh mon Dieu, que tu viens de sourire? Qu'est-ce qui se passe?_ (**Oh my God, did you just smile? What the hell is going on?**)"

"Francis... Dude, calm down, okay?" Gilbert chuckled. He turned a continued to make his way up the stairs, not really surprised when the Frenchman followed.

"You never forfeit a fight... And... Who was that boy? Why did you talk to him? Gilbert, what-"

"France." The Frenchman stopped talking abruptly and stared at Prussia with wide eyes. Gilbert noticed distantly that the country's usually-immaculate clothes were rumpled from the crowd, that his white shirt was slightly stained with what looked like beer. "You having fun down there?"

"Mm, I was until I saw your little show, _mon ami_. There was a fascinating young man serving the beer... Now, what is this about?"

Prussia shrugged, his lips curling upwards into a small smile of relief when he saw a group of teenagers watching him warily from the top of the stairs, Magnus and Francisco at the front.

"You'll see," he whispered to France.

"What took you so long?" Magnus demanded quietly when the two countries joined them at the top of the stairs, his cool blue eyes flickering towards France with an uneasy caution. "And who's this?"

"A friend of mine," Gilbert explained easily, not even bothering to look at his friend. "C'mon, let's see if we can find someplace a little more private..."

"Why should we, _burro_?" Prussia blinked in surprise when a younger boy with curly dark brown hair and bright amber eyes glared at him defiantly from behind Magnus, his arms crossed stubbornly in front of his chest.

France drew in a sharp breath from behind Gilbert, his slim hand reaching out to clasp Prussia's shoulder for balance.

"_Mon Dieu_ (**My God...**)..." he breathed. "He looks... just like Antonio... Oh my God... You found them..."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Francisco broke in sharply, his cheerful face darkening into an uncharacteristic frown. "Who are you two, and what do you want from us?"

Prussia shook his head slowly. "Not here... Please, let us talk to you privately. It's about your parents."

"We have no parents," Magnus growled fiercely, although Gilbert noticed that none of the other teens seemed to share his sentiments.

France chuckled humorlessly and moved forward to stand beside Prussia, his blue eyes focusing intently on a slim girl with wavy golden hair and violet eyes.

"Oh, you have parents, _mon ami_," he murmured. "... Is that Katerina?"

The violet-eyed girl stiffened and shot Francis a panicked look. She raised a trembling hand to straighten her glasses before nodding timidly.

"How do you know my n-name?" she asked quietly.

Francis chuckled again and shook his head. "Not here, _mon cherie_ (**my dear**)."

Katerina sighed and glanced pleadingly at the twins that still stood at the front of the group.

"Magnus, Francisco," she whispered. "Пожалуйста ... Я хочу услышать, что они должны сказать. (**Please... I want to hear what they have to say**)."

Magnus frowned before sighing in defeat. He glanced at Francisco, who nodded and moved towards a simple black door in the far corner of the room. France and Prussia followed the teens, their eyes widening in slight surprise when the door opened to reveal a reasonably-large bathroom, fully stocked with bandages and other medical supplies.

"A bathroom?" Francis muttered in disbelief, earning himself a glare from Magnus.

"You wanted privacy. This is the only place where we can get it in this building," he said flatly.

Prussia chuckled at the slightly disgusted look on France's face and flung himself unceremoniously onto the floor in front of the recently-shut door. He smirked up at the Frenchman before turning back to the teens, his scarlet eyes tightening when they all moved to the other end of the small room.

"I'm not going to bite, you know," he pointed out casually.

"Just tell us what you know, _bastardo_."

"Ve, please don't be rude, Cielo," Francisco whispered to the olive-skinned boy.

Cielo ignored Francisco and glared defiantly at the two nations, his amber eyes gleaming with a fierce sort of hope. Prussia sighed and shook his head with a wry smile.

"You know, you really do look like Antonio," he muttered.

"_Oui_, but he acts more like Lovino," France added with a chuckle.

"Who the hell are they, bastards?" Cielo demanded.

"_Antonio est votre père, ma chère. Lovino est votre mère_."

"_I don't speak fucking French, you wine bastard_!"

"H-he said that Antonio is your father," Katerina translated quickly. "And Lovino is your... W-wait, how can a m-man be Cielo's mother?"

France smiled warmly at the girl, causing her to fidget and draw closer to another blond girl for protection.

"Ah, you understand _l__a langue française_(**the french language**)?"

"Her brother Marc speaks it," the other girl broke in cheerfully, her wary emerald eyes watching Francis closely from behind her glasses. "By the way, we seem to have skipped the usual introductions, haven't we? Not that you two seem to need it."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, his pale lips curling into a smirk. "Oh, you're Alyson, aren't you? Figures you'd be Artie and Alfred's brat, kesesese~."

Alyson raised her eyebrows and smiled thinly, her hand clasped tightly in Katerina's shaking fingers. "You didn't answer my question."

Prussia shrugged. "Whatever. You can call me Gilbert for now. Gilbert Beilschmidt. My friend here is Francis Bonnefoy."

Magnus and Francisco started at the mention of Gilbert's last name, their identical blue eyes focusing on his pale face with an almost-frightening intensity. There was dead silence in the room for a long moment, before it was broken by another boy with messy chocolate-brown hair and sleepy brown eyes who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange.

"Enough dancing around the question," he said quietly. "Tell us what the hell you want from us. Now."

France stared at the boy for a moment before turning to Prussia, his eyebrows raised questioningly. Gilbert shrugged in response and looked at his two nephews, his expression softening.

"_Ja_ (**Yes**)," he murmured. "Alright, listen up, because the awesome me isn't going to repeat this too many times. There are a few things that you guys should know about your parents..."

XXX

Alyson Eleanor Kirkland-Jones had heard and seen a lot of strange things in her life. Of course, that was mostly due to those pesky fairies playing pranks on everyone but still. She had definitely seen her fair share of weird things.

However, sitting in a bathroom with her only friends listening to a Frenchman and a Ger- _Prussian_ tell her that they were the personified nations of France and Prussia and that her parents were apparently America and England pretty much blew every other odd part of her life out of the water.

"So... Wait, _what_?" she gasped, her large eyebrows furrowing in confusion beneath her eternally-tangled golden hair.

The albino- _Prussia_- shot her an amused look and winked one of his red eyes at her.

"You heard me, kid," he chuckled. "You're the daughter of the United States of America and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. And your friend there, Katerina? She's the youngest child of the Russian Federation and Canada."

Katerina trembled, her thin hands reaching up to touch the white maple leaf that was embroidered on her headband.

"D-do they l-look like me?" she asked quietly, prompting Magnus and Cielo to stare at her incredulously.

"Wha- You can't actually _believe_ them, Kat," Magnus hissed.

"W-why not?" Katerina shot back stubbornly, her violet eyes firm.

"Well, for starters, these crack heads just told us that our 'mothers' were men," Cielo muttered. "Even I know that men can't have kids, and I slept through health last year."

"_Oui_, that was a bit of a surprise for us as well," Francis- France?- chuckled. "I remember your own mother had a fit when he found out about his twin brother's pregnancy... and that was _before_ Lovino realized that he was with his own child... Romano was always a, how do you say, angry sort of fellow..."

"V-ve... So, Cielo's... mother and my mother are the same country?" Francisco clarified slowly. "But they are... different people?"

Magnus glared at his twin and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Prussia.

"Yep," Prussia declared cheerfully. "Northern Italy and Southern Italy are two different people, although South Italy is usually only called Romano to make things clearer."

"Is that even possible?" Alyson broke in skeptically.

Prussia shrugged. "It is if a country has been divided long enough. Take me and West- er, Germany. We were both separate nations before the country was unified, and now he's all of Germany while I'm an ex-nation. Although there is a new Prussian Empire..."

"So, what, _mia madre_ (**my mother**) is an ex-nation?" Cielo grumbled.

"Are you saying you belief us?" France shot back cheerfully.

"Fuck no! But... I mean... Kind of a shitty deal, you know, considering..."

"Hahaha, sucks for you, Cielo," Alyson laughed.

"_Shut the hell up Alyson_! Wha- dammit, Achilles, what the fuck are you doing?"

"...You seemed upset..." Achilles mumbled, his arm still wrapped loosely around Cielo's shoulder despite the younger teen's protests.

Prussia laughed at the display, his expression quickly sobering when he caught sight of Magnus's glare.

"So... do any of you actually believe me?" he asked quietly.

"I do," Katerina broke in immediately. "I-it makes sense... t-the dreams I've been having... they f-fit with what you said." She glanced pleadingly at Cielo and Alyson, silently begging them to agree with her and prove that she wasn't insane.

Alyson hesitated for a moment and glanced over at the small green fairy that had decided to sit on her shoulder halfway through the conversation, her eyebrows raised questioningly. The fairy giggled and nodded enthusiastically.

"They're telling the truth, Aly," the fairy told her. "England's a really good friend of mine. You have his eyes, you know."

"Why didn't you ever tell me this, Tink?" she muttered, making sure to keep her voice low.

The fairy shrugged and smiled beatifically. "Well, you never asked."

Alyson snorted and clapped Katerina on the shoulder, making the other girl jump.

"Well, I believe you two!" she proclaimed loudly. "The fairies say that you're right, so I suppose it's all true."

Prussia blinked at her in confusion and glanced at France, who merely smiled knowingly.

Cielo sighed heavily at Alyson's proclamation and glanced warily at Achilles, who had remained silent after his short outburst.

"Well?" he muttered. "What do you think, _bastardo_?"

Achilles shrugged lazily. "...They don't look like they're lying...I don't mind being the son of Greece and Japan..."

Cielo rolled his eyes and muttered a few insults in Italian before moving closer to Katerina and Alyson, dragging Achilles behind him.

"Looks like we believe you two bastards, too," he grumbled. "So I swear to God, if you're lying I'm going to cut off your-"

"Ve~! I don't think they're lying, _cugino_ (**cousin**)," Francisco broke in quickly. He glanced at his twin for a moment, his blue eyes troubled. "Magnus?"

"_Nein_," Magnus said shortly. "No. I don't believe them."

Prussia flinched and leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

"Look, if it's proof you need-" he began.

"I don't want any damn _proof_," Magnus snarled, his usually-calm expression cracking to reveal raw fury. "Do you even _hear_ how insane you sound? You expect me to believe that the reason we haven't seen our parents is because we were kidnapped, and that some of the most powerful countries in the world couldn't track us down for fourteen years?"

"They used everything that they had-" France began desperately.

"And, what, every advanced intelligence agency in the world failed to track down a group of children?" Magnus growled. "We were in a fucking New York City orphanage for most of our lives, being treated like shit and praying every night that someone would come and rescue us, that no one would try and separate us! You'll excuse me for not really believing your fairy tale of loving parent-nations when I watched the people I loved get beaten bloody by every _fucking_ person we came into contact with nearly every _fucking_ day of my life!"

France and Prussia stared at Magnus in horror, unmistakeable pain and anger rising in their eyes. Alyson winced at their expressions and glanced at Francisco, trying to force back the memories of those days in the orphanage... those nights of shivering in the cold beside the small Italian boy and his twin, trying not to cry over her latest injuries... Francisco sensed her gaze and offered her a tired smile before he turned back to his twin, his blue eyes pleading.

"_Fratello_," he whispered. "Please don't blame that on them. It wasn't their fault..."

"Besides, I'm not sure that that hellhole was considered a legal orphanage," Cielo broke in sourly. "So I'm not really surprised that they couldn't find us."

"Is that place still standing?" Prussia demanded roughly, his voice low and thick with suppressed rage.

"_Da_ (**Yes**)," Katerina whispered shakily.

Prussia's expression darkened and he shook his head slowly, his red eyes murderous.

"We'll deal with that later," he vowed quietly. "But first... We need to let your parents know that you're alive."

"How?" Cielo demanded sharply, his cheeks flushing when he realized that he had spoken aloud. "Not that I really give a damn... Like I would want to see those bastards..."

France chuckled and nodded. "_Oui_, I agree with Gilbert. You have all gone long enough without meeting your families. There is a world meeting tomorrow, so everyone is here... The only problem, of course, would be convincing the security guards to allow us to bring you in..."

"Kesesese~ Who says the security guards have to approve anything?" Prussia broke in. "I've been breaking in to that place for years without them knowing."

"_Oui_, it always works well for you until someone gets annoyed and calls security. _Mais_ (**but**)... I suppose that is our only option for now."

"Wait," Magnus broke in angrily. "What makes you think we want to come with you? We have school tomorrow."

"From what you have told me, _neffe_ (**nephew**), that school of yours is a load of bullshit," Prussia broke in bluntly.

"So are you," Magnus shot back. The teen stood abruptly and pushed past his twin, his blue eyes boring into red as he made his way to the door. "Move out of the way. I'm going home."

"_Fratello_-"

"Don't start with me, _bruder_," Magnus growled back. "If we don't head home now, Marc and Saichi will be there before us and we don't want them to worry."

Katerina and Achilles winced at the mention of their respective elder siblings and reluctantly rose as well, Cielo following close behind. Alyson stayed put and, after a moment of hesitation, Francisco joined her. Magnus frowned at them.

"_Bruder-_"

"I-I'm staying here," Francisco said stubbornly. "I want to see my parents, _fratello_."

Magnus glared at his twin, his eyes flickering towards Alyson. "You too?"  
>Alyson nodded firmly, her jaw set. "The fairies said- Actually, <em>I<em> say that it's the right thing to do. I'm going with them tomorrow."

Magnus snarled and stormed out of the room, his blue eyes flashing as he glanced over his shoulder.

"Who else, then?" he growled.

Achilles hesitated and looked down at Cielo, who was glaring thoughtfully at Alyson and Francisco. After a moment, Cielo met the Greek boy's questioning gaze.

"What the hell are you looking at, bastard?" Cielo muttered, his cheeks reddening furiously.

"...I won't go anywhere without you," Achilles told him quietly.

"Saichi-"

"Η αδερφή μου ξέρει πού στέκομαι μαζί σας (**My sister knows where I stand with you**)," Achilles murmured. "She will understand whatever decision I make."

Cielo's blush deepened. "_Cazzo linfa_... (**Fucking sap...**)" he muttered. Without another word, the pair joined Alyson and Francisco, leaving Katerina alone in the doorway.

Katerina bit her lip, her violet eyes flickering towards Magnus's hunched form a few feet away.

"Magnus..." she called softly, struggling to be heard over the noise coming from the nearby bar.

Magnus stiffened and glanced over his shoulder at her, his expression hurt. "You're siding with them?"

"I-I'm siding w-with my parents," she sighed.

Magnus took a small step towards her, his mouth set into a hard line. "You've never even met them, Kat. What if they aren't good people, what if they hurt you?"

Katerina shuddered at the thought but squared her shoulders. "I-I'll still have мой брат (**my brother**)."

"Marc won't always be able to protect you," Magnus snapped.

"... W-will you?"

Magnus flinched and sent the younger girl a look of betrayal before turning and walking out of the building. Katerina took a deep, shuddering breath and retreated back into bathroom, her violet eyes catching sight of Prussia and Francisco's stricken gazes as she did so.

"Kat?" Francisco whispered.

Katerina shrugged, her violet eyes trained stubbornly on the floor.

"I-is th-there a place where we can w-wait until tomorrow?" she mumbled. "I-it doesn't take that long to g-get to the U.N., right?"

France frowned and glanced at Prussia. "I suppose not," the Frenchman admitted slowly. "Although I cannot think of a place to stay... unless you were planning on spending the night in this bathroom."

"We've slept in worse," Alyson insisted. "We'll stay here just in case he comes back."

Prussia shrugged and slumped onto the floor beside Francisco, his scarlet eyes fierce.

"If they're staying here, so am I," he said stubbornly. "You go ahead and wait at the meeting for us, Francis. We'll see you there tomorrow."

France sighed and nodded. "I will have a car dropped off here tomorrow morning for you. Have fun..."

"_Danke_ (**Thanks**)," Prussia snorted.

France chuckled and started to leave, his blue eyes meeting Katerina's for a brief moment. The Frenchman paused and offered the Russian girl a small, sincere smile.

"I am happy that we found you, Katerina," he whispered quietly. "_Tu m'as manqué, ma petite-fille._(**I have missed you, my granddaughter**)."

Katerina blushed and nodded shyly. "..._Je vous manqués, trop_ (**I missed you, too**)."

Francis beamed and winked at the girl before leaving the room. Katerina sighed and sat down in an unoccupied corner of the room, her eyelids slowly lowering behind her glasses. Alyson chuckled and walked quietly to Katerina's side, her slim fingers deftly removing the younger girl's glasses.

"I guess we might as well get to sleep," she mused.

Francisco sighed and ran a hand through his hair, carefully avoiding the small curl that still bobbed at the side of his auburn head.

"Ve... I don't think I'll be able to sleep after a night like this," he muttered darkly.

XXX

_Everything hurt._

_ Magnus crawled slowly towards the open window, small whimpers of pain breaking through his lips as every tiny movement sent shivers of pain through his abused arms and legs. Drops of blood ran down the sides of his face like tears, filling his parted lips with the metallic taste. He shuddered and reached up to feebly brush the drops away, his fingers sticking briefly to the newly-formed scab on his forehead. In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have talked back to their 'mother' in the middle of the kitchen... There were always too many hard or sharp surfaces in that filthy place..._

_ With a soft sigh that was really more like a moan, Magnus gingerly pulled himself up onto the window sill, his bare feet waving freely over the busy streets two stories below. He glanced over his shoulder towards the closed door, his lips trembling unwillingly when he remembered that Francisco wasn't with him tonight. The 'mother' had seen to that... Had called it 'beneficial' for them... Apparently it wasn't healthy to have two siblings who were as close as Magnus and Francisco were to each other, even if they were twins._

_ "It's not healthy... Nothing here is healthy," Magnus breathed, his shoulders heaving with the effort of holding back long-overdue sobs. She couldn't hear him cry... No, she would just punish him more, punish all of them. At least if he was quiet, he could spare Francisco some of his pain..._

_ For a brief moment, Magnus caught a glimpse of a blonde man staring down at him, worry in his ice-blue eyes. Magnus pushed the image away as tears began to blur his vision, his fists clenching when the image disappeared. They always left, in the end. He was always left alone..._

_ Why am I alone?_

_ "M-Magnus?"_

_ Magnus blinked and looked over his shoulder again, his lips parting into a small "O" of surprise when he saw Katerina watching him from a corner, her violet eyes tinted with red behind the bent frames of her glasses. He noted distantly that there were new scratches on her neck and wondered where she had put her scarf. Didn't she want to hide those scars from Marc?_

_ "Ma-magnus," Katerina repeated timidly, her small feet carrying her silently towards Magnus's perch. She glanced over the windowsill and paled at the view below, her pale lips trembling. "D-don't sit th-there. Y-you'll fall, da?"_

_ Magnus shrugged and turned back to the view below, his thin shoulders hunched. "I don't care."_

_ Katerina whimpered and tugged at the ripped sleeve of his shirt, her eyes swimming with tears._

_ "P-please come down," she whispered. "W-why are you i-in h-here, anyways? I-I d-didn't think s-sh-she let an-anyone stay with me at n-night."_

_ Magnus shrugged and finally gave in to her persistent tugging. He glanced down at the five-year-old girl with a sudden flash of sympathy as her cold hands clutched desperately at his ripped, bloodstained clothes. Of course, he had forgotten... 'mother' liked to keep Katerina in solitary confinement as payback for the small child's habit of 'sneaking up on her'. He felt a sudden rush of anger at that woman. It wasn't fair. Katerina shouldn't be punished because that damn woman wasn't observant enough to see her._

_ Then again, life wasn't fair._

_ "M-Magnus? W-we should get to sleep, da?"_

_ Magnus shook his head and glanced down at his feet. "...I can't sleep." Not when he was in so much pain..._

_ Katerina's delicate brow furrowed in concern for a moment before she brightened, her lips curving upwards into the tiniest of smiles._

_ "I-I could try and h-help," she offered timidly. "M-Marc a-always sang this t-to me be-bef-before, when I c-couldn't fall asleep."_

_ Magnus opened his mouth to turn down her offer, only to close it again when he caught sight of her hopeful expression. He couldn't deny her this... Not when she had already been through so much._

_ "What is it?" he asked warily._

_ Katerina smiled at him and gently tugged him back towards her corner. Magnus noted with some small surprise that that area of the floor had been lined with various scarves and blankets, creating a slightly-softer surface to sleep on._

_ "I-it's a lullaby," the small girl whispered quietly, as if divulging an important secret. "_Мой папа (**My papa**) _used to sing it to me."_

_ "You remember it?" Magnus interrupted in surprise._

_ Katerina shook her head, her violet eyes bright. "H-hear it... In my dreams."_

_ Magnus blinked but stayed silent, his lips curving involuntarily into a smile when Katerina began to sing._

_ "_Spi mladyenets, moi prekrasný,  
>bayushki bayu,<br>tikho smotrit myesyats yasný  
>f kolýbyel tvayu.<br>Stanu skazývat' ya skazki,  
>pyesenki spayu,<br>tý-zh dremli, zakrývshi glazki,  
>bayushki bayu.<p>

Sim uznayesh, budit vremya,  
>branoye zhityo,<br>smyelo vdyenish nogu f stremya  
>i vazmyosh ruzhyo.<br>Ya sedeltse boyevoye  
>sholkom razoshyu.<br>Spi, ditya mayo radnoye,  
>bayushki bayu.<em>"<em>

_ "What does it mean?" Magnus asked quietly when she had finished._

_ Katerina shrugged and turned to smile at him, her smile fading when she saw the tears that ran down his cheeks._

_ "O-oh! _Мне жаль! (**I'm sorry!**)_" she whispered. "I-I didn't mean to ma-make you cry!"_

_ Magnus shook his head and smiled at her. "It's okay." He yawned suddenly and lay back on the thin mat of coats and scarves, his lips curving into a small smile when the small girl followed his lead and buried her head in his shoulder._

_ "Do you really think that your father sang that song to you?" he asked quietly._

_ Katerina hummed and nodded her head, her violet eyes already closing with sleep. "He would sing it... Before he left... According to Marc. Except for the last time... He didn't sing it then..."_

_ Magnus nodded mechanically and allowed himself to drift off to sleep, the sound of Katerina's voice still going through his mind._

**Hey! So, I actually have an excuse why this update is late! Midterms! (Ich, hate those things... Really, they are a pox upon humanity... Well, they're a pox upon students...) So, due to an overload of studying and trying to remember things that the human mind cannot possibly have a use for, I was unable to write anything for about two weeks (it SUCKED). But, I'm back now! And... Yeah, I probably should have updated Tides of Betrayal first, but I was kind of in the mood for angst, so I decided to write this. But I promise, Tides of Betrayal will be updated before the end of the weekend, if anyone cares...**

** Anyways, thanks sooo much for your patience on this, and thank you for the reviews and support! :) **

**Btw, in case you were wondering, Katerina is singing a traditional Russian lullaby in that last bit called "Cossack Lullaby". It is incredibly easy to find a recording on Youtube if you really want to hear what it sounds like, and the English translation of the lyrics are as follows:**

Sleep, good boy, my beautiful,  
>Bayushki bayu*,<br>Quietly the moon is looking  
>Into your cradle.<br>I will tell you fairy tales  
>And sing you little songs,<br>But you must slumber, with your little eyes closed,  
>Bayushki bayu.<p>

The time will come, then you will learn  
>The pugnacious life,<br>Boldly you'll stem your foot into the stirrup  
>And take the gun.<br>The saddle-cloth for your battle horse  
>I will sew you from silk.<br>Sleep now, my dear little child,  
>Bayushki bayu.<p>

**Well, hope you all enjoyed it! And... In case I forgot to mention this before: I do not own Hetalia, although I do own my OCs for now.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Magnus groaned and pressed his forehead against the rough stone of his apartment building, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. _Verdammt_... Of all the days to forget his keys...

He sighed and pushed away from the apartment, his eyes sweeping the streets in front of him for any sign of Marc or Saichi. It was already well past the time that they usually got off work... Had they worked late again? _Verdammt_...

An image of Katerina's pleading expression sprang up in his mind, making him flinch. He hastily pushed the image away, only to have it replaced with Francisco's hurt expression, with the kind smiles of an auburn-haired man and a blond man with bright blue eyes...

_Verdammt... Why won't they leave me alone?_

Magnus glanced back in the direction of the fight club and bit his lip. Had he been wrong to leave...? Maybe... Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad to meet his parents... Besides, what had he been thinking, leaving Francisco and Katerina alone with those... nations. Francisco was notorious for making dumb decisions without really thinking, and Katerina was too naïve to look out for herself..

_I shouldn't have left... not like that... But then, how do I get back?_

Would it be too much to hope that they were still there, at the club? Maybe- Maybe he could at least try and track them down... Apologize for his behavior... Maybe...

Magnus gave a sigh of defeat and turned away from the apartment building. He paused for a moment, guilt rising within him as he thought about Saichi and Marc. Should he wait for them? Explain what was going on? Ask them if they wanted to come too? But... If he waited for them to come back, would he miss the others?

"I'll leave them a note," he decided aloud. "Then..."

Well, he didn't know what would happen after that.

XXX

Saichi Cassandra Honda-Karpusi slowly made her way home from the bar that she had spent most of the day working at, her eyelids lowered sleepily over her moss-green eyes. She stumbled over a broken part of the sidewalk, a small smile flickering across her lips when she felt Marc's slim hand catch her arm and gently pull her to his side. Saichi sighed and stiffened instinctively as Marc ran a hand through her messy black hair, her lips tightening in an effort to hide her smile.

"Personal space, Marc-kun," she reminded him quietly.

Marc shrugged and flashed her a mischievous grin, his violet eyes unusually soft, despite the weariness that was etched into his features.

"_Non_ (**No**)," he chuckled. "I like this position."

Saichi rolled her eyes. "What if Katerina-kun and Achilles-kun see us?" she asked casually.

Marc shrugged and winced sheepishly. "I'm sure that they already know... Nothing is a secret for very long in our home..."

Saichi chuckled, her smile fading when she saw something white pinned to the door of their apartment building. "...Is that Magnus-kun's handwriting?"

Marc frowned and strode forward, his hands leaving their positions around Saichi's shoulders and head. Saichi bit her lip at the loss of his presence and followed close behind him, her brow furrowing when she saw the horrified expression on Marc's face.

"Marc?" she called warily. "それは何ですか？(**What is it?**)"

Marc shook his head slowly, horror giving way to anger and worry.

"Magnus... he said that they have found someone who knows where are parents are," he said slowly, his purple aura rising around him with a vengeance. "They are going with that person to find our parents tomorrow, at the... United Nations? _Pourquoi diable vont-ils là?_ (**Why the hell are they going **_**there**_?)"

Saichi frowned. "What shall we do, go after them?"

Marc nodded and stuffed the note unceremoniously into his pocket. He glanced up at the sky, his expression darkening when he saw the first hints of pink spreading across the horizon.

"We'll need to take the train," he mused, already planning ahead. "A taxi would be too expensive..."

"How will we get in?" Saichi asked. She hesitated for a moment before guiding Marc into the apartment building. "We'll need to change clothes first... We can pick up food on the way, I suppose..."

Marc simply nodded, allowing himself to be lead into their small apartment. Saichi glanced at him over her shoulder, her expression nervous.

"What?" she asked quietly.

Marc shrugged and glanced down at his feet, his violet eyes dark with guilt. "I... I guess I failed them, didn't I?"

Saichi paused and stared at the Canadian, her hand tightening around his arm.

"Wha- No! How can you say-?"

Marc shrugged, his eyes closing wearily. "I made us wait to go looking for our parents... and now they've gone without us, with some _stranger_. If I had listened to you, we could have- they would be with us, and we wouldn't have to worry..."

Saichi sighed and reached out to stroke the edge of Marc's jaw in an uncharacteristic gesture of affection. Marc blinked in surprise and looked up at the Japanese girl, his cheeks reddening slightly when he saw her comforting smile.

"It will be alright, Marc-kun," she whispered. "I don't blame you for waiting, and neither will they. Now come on, we need to hurry if we want to catch the train..."

Marc nodded and allowed Saichi to continue dragging him to their apartment, his hand tightening around hers.

XXX

Achilles Taiyou Honda-Karpusi frowned when he was awakened by a rough shove to his shoulder, only to have the expression disappear the moment he opened his eyes to see Cielo standing over him, a half-hearted glare on the fourteen-year-old's olive-toned face.

"_Despierta_ (**Wake up**), bastard," Cielo muttered, red blooming in his thin cheeks when Achilles sleepily tugged at a lock of his dark-brown hair. "W-what the hell? We don't have time for you to act like a fucking weirdo!"

Achilles chuckled and pulled himself to his feet before Cielo could kick him. He glanced around the bathroom that he and the others had spent the night in, his brown eyes taking in the scene playing out around him.

Francisco was attempting to wake up a reluctant Alyson, a small smile appearing on the Italian's features when she began to whine about fairies. Achilles caught himself wondering when Alyson would break down and tell Francisco that she was in love with him... It would be interesting to see...

Katerina was also up, her violet eyes narrowed in concentration behind her glasses as she ran her fingers through her golden-blonde hair, trying to push the silky locks back into place before she slipped her red-and-white headband onto her head. The albino nation, Prussia, was watching her with raised eyebrows, obviously amused at her efforts.

"Your hair looks fine, kid," the Prussian chuckled. "Unlike America's kid... Damn, she definitely inherited England's hair..."

Alyson shot Gilbert an icy glare and hastily ran a hand through her long, tangled hair. She winced as her fingers ran into numerous knots and hastily pulled the hair back into its usual ponytail. Francisco laughed quietly and turned to Prussia, his blue eyes tightening.

"Ve... Are we ready to head out, then?" Francisco asked quietly.

Prussia frowned and glanced around the room, his scarlet eyes hesitant. "..._Ich denke_ (**I guess**). Is anyone else-?"

"_Lo dudo_, (**I doubt it**)" Cielo broke in from behind Achilles. "Marc and Saichi won't be coming for us unless Magnus told them... We'd be better off just going now."

Katerina frowned at that but nodded reluctantly. Achilles and Alyson agreed quietly.

Prussia sighed and opened the door to the bathroom, his eyes widening when he saw a figure slumped against the wall outside of the door. "What the hell... _neffe_ (**nephew**)?"

Magnus started and blinked up at Prussia with bleary eyes, his gaze flickering over Gilbert's shoulder as Francisco and Katerina appeared in the doorway, their faces brightening in relief.

"_Ja_..." he muttered. "I... decided to come back... I'm sorry for my behavior earlier... It was inexcusable."

Prussia laughed and clapped Magnus on the shoulder as the German boy got to his feet, causing Magnus to flinch. "Kesesese~ _Es ist in Ordnung, neffe_ (**It's okay, nephew**). Now c'mon, we need to get going if we're going to get to the UN before the meeting starts... Trust me, you do _not_ want to break in there in the middle of one of West's speeches... Or Russia... _Mein Gott_ (**My God**), that bastard is scary... No offense, Katerina."

Magnus stared blankly at the Prussian, his eyebrows disappearing into his auburn hair as the albino hurried past him and out the door of the bar. He grunted as Francisco pulled him immediately into a tight hug, a reluctant smile making its way to his lips.

"Hey, _bruder_," he chuckled.

"Ve~ I knew you would come back, _fratello_! Now we get to meet them together! Ve~! This will be so _fun_! Ve~!"

"Will you please shut the hell up?" Cielo groaned. The younger boy brushed past twins with Achilles and Alyson at his side, his thin lips quirking upwards into an unconscious grin. "_Mio Dio_ (**My God**), how the hell am I supposed to survive in a car with you bastards?"

Francisco merely giggled and began to pull Magnus after the trio. Magnus sighed and gently detached himself from his brother's grip, his blue eyes flickering towards the violet-eyed girl that was still standing in the doorway.

Katerina smiled shyly at him and started to follow the others, her feet pausing just in front of Magnus.

"R-ready to g-go?" she asked quietly.

Magnus nodded and moved to her side. "I- I'm sorry for what I said, Kat."

Katerina shrugged, her eyes darkening at the mention of their last conversation. "Это нормально (**It's okay**). I u-understand why... I-I w-was mad at them, t-too, a-at first. W-when things were s-so awful at t-the orphanage... I w-wondered why they had left me alone... w-why they hadn't f-found me yet... i-if they didn't w-want me..."

Magnus glanced at her in surprise, his ice-blue eyes widening. "You never told us that... I thought that you always believed in your parents..."

Katerina shrugged, her cheeks reddening slightly as she flashed him a sheepish grin. "Y-you all had so much to w-worry about. I d-didn't th-think my own problems were t-that important..."

"How did you get over it?" Magnus asked quietly as they left the bar. He wondered vaguely how they were going to get to the United Nations, then decided that he didn't really care at the moment. "You know... the anger, the betrayal."

Katerina shrugged again. "I-I don't know... I g-guess I realized that I would rather have parents who m-made a few mistakes, then c-continue with no parents at all."

Magnus was silent as they followed the rest of the group into the nearly-empty parking lot. He frowned when Prussia stopped next to a nondescript black mini-van, his lips twitching with the effort of not smiling as the albino pouted and kicked at one of the tires.

"_Verdammt_," Prussia groaned. "I hate this car... Figures Francis would send _this_... Ah well. Alright, kids, pick your seats. Oh, and please don't fight over who gets the honor of sitting next to the awesome me, alright? I'm not worth it- Okay, maybe I _am_ worth it, kesese~."

Magnus rolled his eyes and helped Katerina into the back of the van behind Alyson, his brow furrowing when Achilles, Cielo, and Francisco pushed past him into the cramped back of the car.

"Where the hell am I supposed to sit?" he demanded irritably.

Francisco grinned innocently at his friend from his place between Alyson and Katerina, his blue eyes glittering with mischief. "Ve~ _Mi dispiace_ (**I'm sorry**), _fratello_. Looks like you'll be spending some quality time with Uncle Gilbert!"

"Since when did that bastard become Uncle Gilbert?" Magnus grumbled darkly. The German teen heaved a resigned sigh and slammed the back door shut before clambering into the passenger seat. Prussia grinned at him from the driver's seat, his white fingers drumming anxiously against the black surface of the wheel.

"Kesesese~ so, _neffe_ has decided to sit with the awesome me?" the Prussian crowed. "Maybe now I can give you some advice on the fighting style of yours..."

Magnus groaned and slammed his head against the headrest of his seat, trying to ignore the endless chatter of the annoying ex-nation.

This was going to be a _long_ drive...

**Hehe, yay! I updated this sort-of-on-time! Sort of... Well, anyways, sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but I had to end it here so I can focus the next one on bringing the nations in~! Hahaha!**

**Well, I don't really have much else to say here. Thank you to everyone who has been praying/thinking for my speech coach's wife. Please continue to pray for her or think about her. My coach said that she's still really sick, and he's going to leave in March to take care of her. So, please keep praying. Thank you.**

**I do not own Hetalia... Or Prussia's black minivan... Yeah, I basically own nothing...**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 7

"_Alzati gi__à, vero?_ (**Get up already, will you?**)"

Lovino Vargas bit his lip as he waited for the reclining Spaniard to respond to him, his amber cat-like eyes tightening in concern when the country of Spain merely stared blankly at the ceiling, a thin blanket thrown carelessly over the wrinkled clothes that he had been dressed in last night. Lovino's eyes narrowed when he saw several empty wine bottles scattered across the small table of their hotel room and silently cursed himself for leaving Spain alone last night. Dammit, why the hell had he listened to his stupid _fratello_?

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo sighed and slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, immediately drawing the attention of Southern Italy. Romano held his breath as the Spaniard got to his feet and began to make his way to the mini fridge in their room, his heart sinking when Antonio merely retrieved another bottle of wine.

"Oh _fuck_ no," Romano snarled. With an unusual amount of speed, the Italian launched himself at the bottle in Spain's hands, his slim fingers easily tugging the neck of the bottle away from Antonio's callused palms.

Spain frowned blearily at his lover, his emerald eyes dulled with years of guilt and sorrow.

"_Dale que de nuevo_, Lovi (**Give that back**)," he muttered hoarsely.

Lovino merely glared, his bright amber eyes daring the Spaniard to make a move.

"No," the Italian snapped. "I'm sick of this shit, Tonio! I'm tired of you fucking moping around and getting drunk just because you can't get over something that happened fourteen years ag-"

Spain's eyes flashed with fury and he took a step towards Romano, causing the younger nation to take an automatic step back.

"Don't you _dare_ mention that," Antonio croaked angrily.

Lovino set his jaw and met the Spaniard's glare with one of his own.

"Get. Over. It," he growled. "It's done, it's over. Move on with your life. You can't just spend all fucking eternity _dwelling_ on this."

"How the hell can you say that?" Spain yelled. "How can you even _suggest_ that I move on? That was my son, Lovi!"

"_Era mio, anche tu, bastardo cazzo!_ (**He was mine, too, you fucking bastard!**)" Romano screamed. "I love and miss him just as much as you do!"

"Then why aren't you suffering?" Antonio whispered hoarsely.

"Who says I'm not?" Lovino challenged. "I just don't show it because I need to stay strong..." _For you_.

Spain shuddered and turned away, his tanned legs carrying him quickly to the small bathroom. Romano flinched when he heard the door slam shut behind his Spanish lover and hastened towards the recently-closed door, his hand freezing inches over the doorknob when he heard the small, muffled sobs that were leaking beneath the door.

"_Oh, Dios mío, perdóname por mi debilidad ... Perdóname por el dolor que he causado ... Me duele mucho ..._(**Oh God, forgive me for my weakness... Forgive me for the suffering I've caused... It hurts so much...**)

Hot tears ran silently down Lovino's thin cheeks as he pressed his pounding forehead against the door, his slender shoulders trembling.

_Make it stop... Just make the pain stop..._

XXX

"Ve... Ludwig? _Fratello_ just called, he said that him and big brother Spain are going to be a little late."

Ludwig Beilschmidt frowned and looked up from the pile of papers that he had been carefully organizing, his large hands pressing lightly against the dark wooden surface of the meeting table.

"Did they say why?" he asked flatly, not really interested in the answer.

Feliciano Vargas hesitated and glanced cautiously at the two other occupants of the meeting room. Kiku Honda stared back at the Italian, his expression unreadable as he gently tugged on the sleeve of the sleeping Heracles Karpusi to get the Greek's attention.

Italy sighed and turned back to the blond German that had been watching him, his hazel eyes dark with sadness.

"Spain has been having some trouble again," he said quietly.

Germany nodded curtly and hastily returned to his papers, not even bothering to ask what Spain had been having trouble with.

There was only one problem that could really bother them nowadays.

Japan stiffened at Italy's words, his deep brown eyes flickering anxiously to the suddenly-tense Greece. Greece silently pulled away from his Japanese partner and walked slowly out of the door of the meeting room, several cats trailing after him.

"...I'm going for a walk," he announced quietly.

Kiku nodded after the Greek's retreating back, his small hands tightening infinitesimally in his lap when the door shut behind Heracles. Feliciano sniffed and slumped quietly into Greece's vacated chair, his curl drooping as he buried his face in his shaking hands.

"_M-mi dispiace_, (**I'm sorry**)," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have said anything..."

"It is alright," Japan assured him quietly. "Heracles-kun... Doesn't like to talk about it. I think... that he blames himself."

"We all do," Germany called from his place at the meeting table, his muscles tensed beneath his pristine suit.

"_Si_," Italy agreed quietly. After a moment, the Italian spoke again, his voice quiet. "Do you ever wonder how they would have ended up?"

"はい (**Yes**)," Japan replied simply. "All the time..." The Asian nation hesitated, his cheeks dusted with a light pink blush. "I believe... that Achilles would have been like Heracles... He slept so much."

"Ve... Saichi was a lot like you, Kiku," Feliciano observed quietly. "She didn't like hugs or talking, but she was really nice..."

Kiku bowed his head in thanks, his lips trembling ever-so-slightly. "Yao really liked her... So did Yong Soo... I think that Sadik and Gupta liked Achilles better, though..."

"V-ve, _fratello_ was so angry when Cisco and Magnus got Ludwig's eyes," Feliciano remembered with a chuckle. "He said that it made them too German... But I liked them that way... They were so unique... And _fratello_ couldn't really complain when _suo figlio_ (**his son**) ended up looking like big brother Spain."

"Prussia was convinced that Magnus would end up like him," Ludwig muttered, surprising the other two. "Apparently Magnus was the most German... Gilbert used to say that there were enough 'unawesome' Germans in the family already."

"Have you forgiven him, Germany-san?" Japan asked slowly. "For... everything?"

Germany nodded slowly, his bright blue eyes distant. "_Ja_... Have you two?"

Japan nodded and glanced at Italy.

"... _si_, I suppose so," Feliciano admitted reluctantly. "I still get angry sometimes, but it wasn't his fault... Although, sometimes I wonder if Prussia has forgiven himself yet."

"_Nein_," Ludwig sighed. "I don't think he ever will."

XXX

"... And that was how the awesome me got arrested for being too good-looking! Hey, _neffe_, you listening?"

"Huh?" Magnus grumbled, his blue eyes moving with reluctance from the towering skyscrapers of New York City.

Prussia pouted at the obvious- and unawesome- lack of interest from his nephew and glanced towards the back of the car, his frown deepening when he saw that the rest of the teens weren't even listening to him anymore. The ex-nation huffed in annoyance and returned his attention to the traffic-clogged road, his scarlet eyes flickering anxiously towards the small clock on the dashboard of the car.

"Right, looks like we're running a bit late," he muttered, immediately grabbing the attention of his companions.

"How late?" Cielo broke in furiously, his amber eyes wide with panic.

"Relax, kid. You'll still be able to see your parents... although it'll be a bit trickier getting in now that the meeting has started. We'll have to find another window or something..."

Katerina blinked in surprise, her violet eyes meeting Magnus's for a split second.

"W-window?" she repeated anxiously.

"_Ja._ See, usually I use the one that goes right into the meeting room, but West has been locking it lately, and it's kind of impossible to get in when all of the other nations are already there and the meeting is in full-swing, so I have to find other ways in occasionally... Don't worry, it's safe... mostly."

Magnus groaned and flashed a quick glare at his twin brother before he sank back into the passenger seat, his hand clenching around the handle of his door as the Prussian proceeded to make an extremely sudden turn around the corner. _Scheiße_(**Shit**), the man was almost as bad as Francisco...

"V-ve, and they say Italians can't drive," Francisco moaned from the back of the car, echoing his twin's thoughts.

"Hey! It's not my fault that America's streets are awful," Gilbert shot back irritably. The albino gave a triumphant war-cry and slammed his foot on the brakes, nearly throwing the six teens out of their seats. "_Hier sind wir!_ (**We're here!**)"

Magnus glanced out of the tinted car windows, his heart sinking when he saw the glass building rising above the semi-circle of waving flags. _Verdammt_... What the hell was he doing here? There was no way anyone would let _him_ through those doors...

Prussia whistled cheerfully as the teens proceeded to stumble out of the car, his red eyes narrowed speculatively beneath his white hair.

"Hmm...I can't really remember which window is the one that West welded shut," he muttered thoughtfully.

"Can we just use the door?" Alyson broke in quickly, her emerald eyes wide and alarmed beneath her glasses. "The fairies said that we should be able to get in."

"... I agree with Alyson," Achilles added quietly. "I don't feel like dying today."

Prussia snorted and rolled his eyes. "... Wimps."

The albino led the kids towards the sliding glass doors of the United Nations, a cocky grin spreading across his features when he saw two armed guards standing at attention in front of the doors.

"Hey! Larry! Georgie! How are you two holding up?"

The two guards frowned, obviously not pleased to see the ex-nation. Gilbert winked at them and continued to move past them, apparently oblivious.

"So, I've gotta take these kids upstairs to the meeting, got it? Thanks guys, knew you'd understand."

"Mr. Beilschmidt, we've been given strict orders to not allow you inside of the building at this moment," one of the guards broke in calmly.

"We have permission to use excessive force, if necessary, sir," the other added with a small grin.

Magnus and Francisco frowned and stepped forward to defend their uncle, only to be pushed aside by the Prussian. Gilbert winked at them and mouthed 'run' before he tackled the nearest guard, his pale fists slamming into every inch of the man that he could reach. Francisco blinked in surprise before he was dragged into the building by Magnus, his fingers closing around Alyson's wrist with a persistent tug when she refused to move. Katerina and Cielo followed close behind with Achilles at their heels, their eyes wide with shock as Prussia continued to wrestle with the two guards.

"Split up!" Magnus yelled as they ran through the building, dodging neatly between the confused receptionists and security guards. "Find your parents if you can and yell if you get caught."

Katerina nodded solemnly and immediately took off in a separate direction. Cielo cursed and ducked into a waiting elevator, while Alyson and Achilles barreled through a crowd of workers in an effort to reach the stairs. Magnus watched all of them disappear into the building with narrowed eyes, his hand still clasped tightly around his twin's.

"Uh, _fratello_?" Francisco piped up weakly. "We've got a problem up ahead."

Magnus's head whipped around just in time to catch sight of the wall of muscle that was beginning to form several feet ahead. He gulped and hastily yanked his brother down an adjoining hallway, the blood pounding in his ears as footsteps continued to follow them. Without a word, Francisco slammed his feet into the ground and yanked Magnus into the nearest open door, a hysterical giggle breaking through his lips when he realized that they had just stumbled into a closet.

Magnus glared at his brother and pulled the door shut behind them, his lips parting in a low sigh of relief when the footsteps passed by the door without pausing.

_Damn that Prussia..._

XXX

Katerina pressed her back against the wall, her lips trembling as the footsteps of her pursuers drew closer. She whimpered when she heard one of the guards shout orders for the men to spread out and search, her violet eyes impossibly wide beneath her wire-frame glasses.

_I'm going to die_, she thought fearfully. Господи (**Oh my God**) _I'm going to die..._

Something slammed into the wall a few feet away from her, propelling the Russian girl to her feet. Katerina turned and ran down the hall away from the searching guards, her violet eyes flickering constantly over her shoulder to search for any sign of pursuers.

A solid wall of muscle clad in beige slammed into Katerina, nearly sending her tumbling to the ground. She reached out blindly for something to steady herself with, her pale hand clenching around soft fabric. A low gasp reached her ears from the wall, causing the girl to tense. Shit, what had she just done?

The Russian girl glanced hesitantly up at the wall- person that towered above her, the blood draining from her features as she took in just how tall the man was.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she whispered frantically. "I-I didn't m-mean to run into y-you..."

The man didn't reply, his wide violet eyes trained on her features with a frightening intensity. Katerina noticed for the first time that her fingers were clenched tightly around the folds of the light purple scarf wound around the man's neck. She blushed and hurriedly drew her hand away, her fingers brushing self-consciously against the worn fabric of her own red-and-white scarf.

"N-nice scarf?" she offered hesitantly, hoping to get a reaction out of the man.

He made no reply, only continued to stare at her as locks of his white-blonde hair fell across his round features. Katerina stared back for a moment, her heartbeat picking up furiously as she noticed that his eyes were the exact shade as hers, that his hair was identical to Marc's...

"A-are you M-Mr. R-russia?" she squeaked, silently praying that the silent man would nod.

The man- country?- nodded slowly, his lips curving into a hesitant smile.

"...What is your full name?" he asked softly, his voice cracking as if it hadn't been used in a while.

"K-Katerina... Ivanova... B-Braginski-Williams," the girl replied slowly, her purple eyes searching his frantically through the smudged lenses of her glasses.

Russia gave startled, nearly-hysterical laugh and bent to pull the girl into a bone-crushing hug, his face buried in her tangled blonde hair.

"Моя девочка ... Моя маленькая девочка ... (**My girl... My little girl**...)," he whispered endlessly, his strong arms shaking slightly as he ran his hands across the shoulders of her thin coat.

Katerina choked back a sob and buried her face into her father's warm coat, her small hands clenched tightly in the fabric.

"Я нашел тебя (**I found you**)," she breathed. "I-I'm not alone anymore..."

"нет (**No**)," Russia growled protectively. "You will never be alone again."

"I-Ivan?"

The two Russians straightened out of their embrace and turned to look at the petite blonde man that had come up behind Ivan, his arms wrapped securely around a sleepy polar bear.

Canada frowned in confusion at the sight of the half-hidden girl buried in his partner's embrace, his violet eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses.

"W-what's going on, eh?" he asked quietly. "W-who's this?"

Katerina trembled at the sound of her mother's voice and peered hesitantly around Russia, her violet eyes filling with tears when she caught sight of Matthew's wavy blonde hair.

"I-I do h-have your hair," she whispered dazedly.

Canada stared at the girl, his lips falling open into a perfect "O" as he let a disgruntled Kumajiro slip through his limp arms.

"_M-mon Dieu_," he gasped.

"Matvey," Ivan interrupted gently. "This is our daughter... Katerina Ivanova Braginski-Williams."

Katerina stepped forward hesitantly, her fingers playing nervously with the fringe of her scarf.

"H-Hello," she whispered shyly. "I-I'm-"

Matthew's arms wrapped tightly around the girl, cutting off the rest of her words. With a low, choking gasp, the Canadian pulled his daughter against his chest, his thin fingers running frantically through her silky hair.

"_Je t'aime_ (**I love you**)," he whispered. "_Je t'aime, mon petite ange_ (**I love you, my little angel**)."

Katerina merely smiled and allowed herself to be held, a small sigh of satisfaction escaping her lips when she felt Russia's strong arms wrap around both of them from behind.

_I'm home_...

**Hey, I'm alive! Sorry it took so long to update this... /mumbles something about lots of school work while dodging bullets/ But hopefully you'll forgive me now, yes? Anyways, in case you were confused, Yao is China, Yong Soo is South Korea, Sadik is Turkey, and Gupta is Egypt. Also, thanks for all of the reviews you guys have been giving! Keep 'em coming, okay? Tell me what you think!**

**And please continue to pray/think for my speech coach's wife, okay? Thank you so much to all of the people that have done so already.**

**And... I don't own Hetalia... If I did, there would be A LOT more yaoi... So much more...**

**Hasta la pasta~! **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Marc Lucien Braginski-Williams breathed a low sigh of relief when the subway finally came to a stop, his fists clenching as the conductor's voice crackled over the intercom.

"_Qu'est-ce qu'ils disent?_ (**What the hell are they saying?**)" he grumbled.

Saichi smiled slightly at his frustration and patted his shoulder soothingly.

"I think that this is our stop," she murmured. A small frown crossed her smooth features and her fingers tightened for a brief moment on the sleeve of Marc's beige jacket. "...Have you thought of how we're going to get in?"

Marc shook his head and flashed a protective glare towards a grubby teen that had gotten too close to Saichi's side. The teen gulped and slipped hurriedly out of the doors of the train. Marc sighed and gently pulled Saichi out after the teen, his brow furrowed thoughtfully beneath his messy platinum-blonde hair.

"To be honest, I haven't been able to think of anything," he admitted.

"...Neither have I," Saichi murmured. "Perhaps they weren't able to get in either?"

"They might be in jail, then," he sighed. "I don't know what happens to people who try to get into the United Nations without permission... Magnus said that they were going with someone, though. What if he got them in?"

Saichi groaned quietly and ran a hand through her hair, her green eyes tightening when her fingers encountered several knots along the way.

"...We'll have to call a cab," she observed quietly when they walked out of the station.

"We don't have the money," Marc shot back. "C'mon, we might as well start walking. It'll take us a while before we get there."

He heard Saichi sigh again and resisted the urge to wrap a supporting arm around her shoulders. His violet eyes darted around him to take in the crowded New York City streets, his muscles tensing at the sight of the pulsing mob that rushed around them.

_Mon Dieu, please keep me strong..._

XXX

"Shit... Shit... Shit... _Mierda!_ (**Shit!**)"

Cielo kept up a steady stream of curses as the elevator continued to rise, his foot tapping impatiently against the rumbling floor in an effort to drown out the infuriating elevator music.

_Dammit, why the hell are they even playing this crap in an elevator?_

The teen groaned and rested his head against the cool metal walls of the elevator, the blood draining from his cheeks when the doors slid open with a low beep. Without thinking, Cielo pushed violently away from the wall, ran out of the elevator...

...And nearly ran headlong into a slender man with dark auburn hair and weary yellow eyes.

The man stiffened as Cielo skidded to a stop in front of him, his amber eyes flashing while a strange curl on the left side of his head seemed to bristle with annoyance.

"_Dio, si guarda dove stai andando?_ (**God, will you watch where you're going?**)" he growled.

Cielo tensed and glared at the other man, a small tinge of unease going through him at the sight of the stranger's cat-like yellow eyes. _Dio_... Why- that color- why was it so much like his own?

"Why don't _you_ watch where you're going, _gilipollas_ (**asshole**)?" he snapped.

The stranger snarled and took a step forward, his eyebrows rising when Cielo didn't back down.

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to right now, you little-" He froze suddenly, his eyes widening as they raked over Cielo's body, taking in his tanned skin and curly dark hair. The stranger's bright amber eyes locked with the teen's, his lips falling open into a perfect "O".

"Cielo," the man gasped. "_Mio Dio..._ Cielo..."

Cielo gulped and took an uncertain step back, his features paling with sudden fear. "H-how the hell do you know my name, bastard?"

The stranger gave a startled laugh and covered his face with shaking hands, his shoulders trembling with an emotion that Cielo couldn't read.

"Oh my God," the man choked. "You ended up like me after all... God, what will that Spanish bastard say when he hears _that_..."

Cielo shook his head and took another step backwards, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

"S-shut up," he hissed. "J-just shut up... What the hell are you talking about? How do you know me?"

The stranger slowly lowered his hands, his lips quirking upwards into a hesitant half-smile.

"Would you believe me... if I said that I was your mother?" he whispered hoarsely.

Silence. Cielo stared at the stranger that he had been cursing mere moments before, his cheeks suddenly wet with tears that he couldn't remember shedding.

"P-prove it," he croaked.

The stranger straightened his shoulders and gave the teen a defiant glare.

"You full name is Cielo Romano Carriedo-Vargas," he growled. "That Spanish bas- er, your father, gave you my nation name for your middle name... God knows why." After a moment, he added "You have his hair, you know... You look exactly like him, except for the eyes."

"I have your eyes," Cielo murmured. "And you... You are Southern Italy?"

The Italian man nodded. "Romano is shorter... My friends and family call me Lovino though... Except for that damn tomato bastard, he calls me-" Lovino's cheeks flushed a bright red and he looked away. "Never mind."

Cielo frowned and decided that he _really_ didn't want to know... Not now, anyways.

"Can I... I mean..." he started, his flushed cheeks the same shade as Romano's as his voice died in his throat.

Lovino smiled, his eyes suddenly soft. Without a word, he pulled the young man into tight hug, his arms trembling as they wrapped around his son.

"C'mon," he muttered hoarsely. "There's someone I need you to meet."

Cielo nodded mutely and allowed himself to be led away from the elevator, his brow furrowing when he was pulled gently through an open door into a nearly-empty room.

A tanned man with curly dark hair stood in front of the lone window in the room, his back facing them. Romano huffed in annoyance and stepped away from Cielo's side with a final squeeze of his hand.

"Oy, bastard," the Italian called, his gentle tone belying his harsh greeting. "You drunk again?"

The man chuckled bitterly and shook his head. "No."

Lovino sighed and took a few more steps, stopping just inches from the man's side. The dark-haired man turned his head to look at the Italian, revealing tired green eyes.

"Is something wrong, Lovi?" he asked quietly.

Cielo choked out a strangled laugh, immediately grabbing the attention of the others.

"Lovi," he whispered. "Is that the nickname that you hate, _mam__á_?"

The man stared at Cielo, his golden skin turning a deathly pale.

"You... found him," Antonio Fernandez Carriedo whispered.

Without waiting for Romano's answer, Spain stumbled forward and fell to his knees in front of his son, his lips curving into a watery smile.

"You've gotten so big," he chuckled thickly.

Cielo gulped and nodded nervously. "..._Pap__á_?"

Antonio nodded and reached out to ruffle the boy's hair, his fingers shaking. "_S__í... soy su papá_ (**Yes... I'm your dad**)." The Spaniard's hand trembled and fell from Cielo's hair to rest on the floor in front of him. "_Perdóname_ (**Forgive me**)..."

Cielo sniffed, his jaw clenching with the effort of holding back tears.

"C-can I ask you something?" he asked, his voice abnormally timid.

Spain glanced up and nodded fervently, his emerald eyes bright. "_Sí_... Anything."

The teen took a deep breath to steady himself, his breath catching in his throat when Romano silently moved to his side.

"J-Just... Don't l-leave me alone again, okay?" he croaked. I-I know I can b-be a bit of a d-dick bu-but I'll try and g-get better so-"

Antonio laughed breathlessly and wrapped his arms around Lovino and his son, simultaneously pulling the two Italians into his arms.

"No," he chuckled. "No, we won't leave you. Besides, you can't be any worse than Lovi~."

"What did you just say, bastard?" Romano growled with a chuckle.

"Nothing, _mi tomatito_~!"

XXX

Achilles really wanted to sleep now.

Honestly, he deserved one after the day that he'd been having. Since leaving the bar with Prussia and the others, he hadn't had a single nap, and running up the stairs after Alyson- whom he had basically lost after she kicked down a door somewhere around the second story yelling about bad fairy directions- had pretty much depleted his energy levels.

_Too bad Cielo's not with me_, the Greek mused sadly. _I like taking naps with him..._

He sighed and stumbled out of the stairwell, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his messy brown hair when several cats greeted him with low meows.

"... I like cats."

"...That's good..."

Achilles jumped and stared in the direction of the new voice, his brown eyes narrowing when a man appeared out of nowhere beneath a pile of more cats, his moss-green eyes dull with the remains of sleep.

The man greeted Achilles with a nod, locks of his wavy brown hair plastered onto his olive-toned skin.

"...You look tired," he noted.

Achilles nodded and settled onto the ground beside the sleepy man, a small sigh of satisfaction breaking through his lips when several cats nudged affectionately against his hands.

"...Cielo's hair always reminded me of cat fur," he told the stranger.

"...So does Kiku's," the man replied quietly. "...So did my kids'."

Achilles glanced at the man, intrigued. "You have kids?"

"Had. They're gone now."

"Why?"

The stranger shrugged, his expression darkening with a sadness that Achilles couldn't begin to understand. "...I didn't get there in time. They were taken away."

Achilles nodded slowly and ran a hand through his hair, his lids closing slowly over tired brown eyes. "...I wonder... if that's why we got taken..."

The stranger glanced at Achilles. "We?"

"Ναι (**Yeah**)" Achilles sighed. "I never asked Saichi why our parents didn't come... I didn't want to know, I guess."

The man nodded slowly, his green eyes suddenly alert. "... What's your name?"

"Achilles... What's yours?"

The man smiled and rested his head against Achilles's, his calloused hands brushing against the teen's hair as gently as he would a cat's fur.

"...Greece... But call me Heracles."

Achilles simply smiled and allowed his father to pull him closer, his eyes finally closing as he slipped into a contented sleep.

Heracles chuckled and continued to brush his hand against his son's hair, his half-lidded green eyes flickering upwards as a Japanese man stepped out of the stairwell.

Kiku blinked and stared down at Heracles, his eyebrows rising when he saw the teen that was cradled in his Greek lover's arms.

"Who-?" he began.

"Shh," Greece murmured. "Achilles is sleeping... I don't want to wake him up..."

Japan was silent for a long moment, his brown eyes now locked on the sleeping teen.

"Kiku..."

"...H-Heracles?"

"...Please don't cry."

Japan nodded and brushed his fingers against the tears that had begun to roll down his cheeks.

"...I'm sorry," he croaked softly.

"Don't apologize..."

Kiku nodded numbly and slipped onto the ground beside his family. "...I knew that he would be like you."

Heracles merely smiled and wrapped his free arm around the Asian man, his smile widening when Kiku failed to object.

"...You want to take a nap?"

**Yeah, I wanted to put in the USUK and GerIta reunions, but then it would've been a bit too long so~**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys are awesome, and I am thankful for every single review that I get. Thank you so much!**

**As always, please continue to keep my speech coach's wife in your thoughts and prayers, and please remember those who died in the Japanese tsunami last year.**

**Because I'm in a really sentimental mood today (no idea why...) I'll leave you with this:**

**Never forget how special, blessed, and amazing you are. No matter what happens in your life, remember that you're never alone and that you're never without love. There's always something good on the horizon, and always something to live for. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Ludwig Beilschmidt stormed out of the mostly-deserted meeting room, silently cursing the world, God, and his idiot of a brother.

_Verdammt... Even when that idiot isn't in the room, he _still_ finds ways to interrupt our meetings..._

Germany sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he stalked past the elevator towards the stairs, his eyes tightening as he remembered the loud shouting from below that had interrupted England's speech about global warming in Wales and had sent Romano into a cursing fit when a frightened Italy decided to cling to him like a wet cat. Add to that France's unexplained laughing fit, Spain's hangover, Poland's rant on pink sheep, and Russia's disappearance from the room after Belarus poked him in the stomach with a knife and... Well, there just wasn't any point to the meeting anymore, was there? Not unless he tied all of the insane nations to their chairs and gagged them...

_Gott, I'd be the only nation able to speak..._ Germany mused, his blue eyes suddenly wistful.

The German heaved a low sigh as he left the relative silence of the stairwell, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration when he heard the unmistakeable sound of his brother's nervous laughter echoing down the hallway.

"Kesesese~ C'mon, can't you guys take a joke anymore? You're so unawesome..."

"_Ich werde in t__ö__ten_ (**I'll kill him**)," Ludwig growled under his breath.

"...V-ve... _fratello_? It's really dark in here..."

"Shut up, will you?"

"It's darrrkkkkk!"

"_Do you want to get arrested?_ Now, shut up!"

"_Smettere di urlare_! (**Stop yelling!**)"

"_H__ö__r 'auf ein Idiot!_ (**Stop being an idiot!**)"

Ludwig slowed to a stop, his icy blue eyes zeroing in on an inconspicuous doorway in the middle of the hall. He sighed again before creeping towards the door, his fingers hovering over the pistol stowed in the jacket of his suit.

_Gott, how many more idiots will I have to deal with today?_

Alyson Eleanor Kirkland-Jones crouched in the middle of some random hallway, her hands braced against her bent knees as she struggled to catch her breath.

"God... Damn... Fairies..." she wheezed. "Freaking... Lousy... Navigators..."

"That's not nice, Aly," a bright green fairy whined, her delicate features turned down into a pout as she hovered in front of the girl's face.

Alyson growled and swatted half-heartedly at the creatured, her breath coming out in a low huff when the movement accidentally knocked her glasses askew. She sighed and straightened, her fingertips brushing against the wire frames in an effort to center them on the bridge of her nose. She hesitated for a moment before setting off down the hall, pointedly ignoring the small fairy that was bobbing along next to her head as she feverishly ran her hands through her ruffled hair and tried to force the golden mess back up into a ponytail.

"Geez, do all of these doors look the same?" Alyson whined.

"You could try that one!" the green fairy suggested cheerfully, her needle-thin finger pointed towards a pair of thick wooden double doors.

"After that stunt you pulled on the stairwell? Not very likely," Alyson huffed.

"I didn't do anything!" the fairy grumbled.

"You told me to jump over the railing!"

"It wasn't that far up!"

"_It was fifty fucking feet above the ground_! Plus we lost Achilles when you told me to go through that door a few floors back. What the hell were you thinking _then_?"

"Um..."

"BLOODY HELL, STOP RANTING ABOUT HAMBURGERS YOU GIT!"

Alyson skidded to a halt and stared wide-eyed at the fairy. The green creature shrugged, her eyes tightening in a wince as an obnoxious laugh echoed down the hall from one of the closed doors.

"HAHAHAHA! Dude, calm down, Iggy! It's not my fault that my cooking is better than yours~."

"You don't even cook, you wanker! You buy it from those damned fast food restaurants!"

"Hey! Don't go slamming McDonald's! I know for a fact that you have some in _your_ cities!"

"T-That's- I don't- That doesn't mean I _like_ the food! It's... It's occasionally convenient... And it's still better than yours!"

"Ha! You wouldn't know good food if it bit you in the ass!"

"I suppose you would know, wouldn't you?"

"Honhonhon~ Perhaps that is a little too much information, _mon cher_ _Angleterre_? (**My dear England**)"

"I agree, aru!"

"_Stay out of this, frog!_"

"Aw, don't be such a prude, China!"

Alyson raised her eyebrows and slowly inched towards the noise, her brow furrowing when she noticed that it was coming from the thick double doors that the fairy had pointed out earlier. The fairy smirked smugly before disappearing in a small puff of glitter.

_Let me know how you make out, Aly~_

"Fairy bastards," Alyson grumbled sourly. She hesitated for a moment before slowly pushing the door open, her emerald eyes widening in alarm when a hamburger immediately flew over her head and slammed into the wall behind her with a dull squish.

Two blonde men stood on opposite ends of the room, apparently oblivious to the variety of over men and women that were half-sitting, half-hiding under a large oval-shaped table that took up most of the room's area. She bit back a gasp of recognition when she recognized one of the men as Prussia's friend from the club- was it France? Eh, it was one of those countries...- sprawled casually towards the one blonde, his hand inching dangerously close to the ass of a flushed Asian man with a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

"Will you stop throwing hamburgers, you idiot?" one of the blondes yelled, his emerald eyes flashing furiously beneath his abnormally-large eyebrows as another piece of fast food flew past his head of messy gold hair to splatter against the wall.

The other blonde, his sky-blue eyes glittering mischievously behind the wiry frames of his glasses. One lone strand of hair stuck out of the top of his wheat-colored hair, its tip bobbing up and down as the man seemed to bounce from foot to foot.

"Never!" he crowed triumphantly. "Hamburgers rock!"

"_Stop throwing that, dammit!_"

Alyson yelped and dodged another hamburger that had gone astray, her eyes widening in alarm when she caught sight of a mint-colored winged bunny floating behind the green-eyed blonde, the tip of its trembling black nose dangerously close to the latest hamburger that was now flying through the air...

"Hey, wait a minute!" Alyson yelled with out thinking, her legs unconsciously carrying her into the middle of the room. "You almost hit that bunny!"

The blue-eyed blonde stared at her, a new hamburger already perched in his hand. Behind her, Alyson heard a sharp gasp from the other blonde as she continued to address them, her cheeks reddening with a sudden nervousness as she realized that everyone in the room was staring at her.

"U-uh, I mean, you almost hit him and it's, like, really hard to get hamburger out of your hair and stuff," she ranted nervously, her emerald eyes flickering wildly between the two blondes as they continued to stare at her. "You know, Cielo threw food at me once, 'cept it was pizza so it wasn't as meaty, but still. The sauce was _murder_ to get out of my hair 'cause it's so thick and stuff and it get's _really_ tangled and messy when I don't brush it enough, which is really annoying and-"

"Honhonhon~ It seems you have your mother's hair, _peu_ Alyson (**little Alyson**)," France piped up cheerfully from underneath the table. "_N'aves-vous pas d'accord, l'Angleterre_?"

"Dude, I told you, I don't speak French-" Alyson whined.

"...He was asking me if I agreed," the green-eyed blonde broke in hoarsely, his brilliant emerald eyes still locked intently on Alyson's. Alyson stared at him, suddenly struck by how similar their eyes were... And their hair, too, come to think of it...

"You're just missing glasses, right?" she whispered to him. "Then we'd be, like, twins..."

The man chuckled, his eyes suddenly wet with tears. "You can thank your father for the glasses, Alyson."

"Sorry," the other blonde called softly, his lips curving upwards into a watery smile. "I guess you can't help genetics."

Alyson smiled hesitantly, her fingers drumming nervously against the sides of her jeans.

"... You guys wouldn't happen to be my parents, would ya?" she asked timidly.

"Depends," the blue-eyed blonde laughed. "Is your name Alyson Eleanor Kirkland-Jones?"

"Y-yeah."

The man laughed again and bounded forward, his arms wrapping around Alyson's shoulders in a bone-crushing hug. After a moment, the other blonde came forward as well, his hand pressing gently against the tangled locks of his daughter's golden hair.

"Damn, we sure have a good-looking kid, Artie," Alfred F. Jones croaked.

Arthur Kirkland smiled and nodded in agreement, a single tear slowly making its way down his cheek.

"Of course we did," he growled happily. "She's ours."

"...I swear to God, Cisco, if you don't shut up _right now_."

"Ve~ Why are you always so mean, _fratello_?"

"I'm not mean, idiot! If someone hears us-"

"But I wouldn't we know if someone was walking nearby?"

"_We won't be able to hear them if you keep talking!_"

The doorknob moved.

Magnus and Francisco Vargas-Beilschmidt immediately fell silent, their identical blue eyes locked on the door as it slowly inched open and spilled blinding light into the inky darkness of the closet. The twins blinked in the sudden light, their muscles tensing at the same time when they caught sight of a large blonde man looming over them, his stern blue eyes glaring down at them. Magnus inched in front of his twin without a word, his expression just daring the stranger to make a move...

Ludwig froze, his eyes locking immediately on the two pairs of bright blue eyes that stared back at him in fear and determination. He glanced quickly towards the tops of their heads, his lips parting slightly when he caught sight of two small curls that poked out of the right sides of the boys' heads.

Magnus hesitated and shrank back, his skin prickling in unease and anticipation at the sudden softness in the stranger's eyes. For a brief moment, he saw another blonde man standing over him, heard the thick German accent whispering to him, telling him to go to bed, reading fairy tales, gently tossing him a small ball...

Francisco gasped and scrambled forward until he was beside his brother, his slim fingers tugging insistently at Magnus's sleeve.

"V-ve... He has our eyes, _fratello_," the Italian murmured in awe.

Without a word, the blonde man bent and pulled the twins into his arms, his stern expression crumpling into one of pain, sorrow, and inexpressible joy. Magnus trembled as those strong arms curled around him protectively, his eyes closing in an effort to hold back the tears that rose immediately into his eyes. He heard Francisco choke on a sob and felt his brother's hair brush against his shoulder as the other twin buried his head in their father's shoulder. Magnus simply wrenched his eyes open and stared at the man in front of him, trying to memorize his face just in case he disappeared again.

"Ve~ Ludwig?"

The twins pulled away from their father and glanced over his shoulder towards the new voice, their mouths falling open into identical "O"s when they caught sight of the kindly-looking brunette that was peeking into the closet, his delicate features furrowed into a confused frown.

Ludwig chuckled and drew back as well, his eyes never leaving the two teens' in front of him.

"Feliciano," he called quietly. "I'm sorry, but... They still have my eyes."

Italy stared at his German lover for a full minute, dawning comprehension and disbelief warring for dominance in his youthful features. With a loud cry, the Italian launched himself at his family, his thin arms struggling to wrap around all three of them at once as he buried a tear-stained face in Francisco's silky auburn hair. Francisco sniffled and promptly burst into tears as well, causing Magnus to stiffen and instinctively jerk away. Magnus glanced up sheepishly at his father, a timid smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he caught sight of Germany's own discomfort.

"..._Ich hätte nicht gedacht, dass Sie__wirklich waren_ (**I didn't think that you were real**)," he croaked.

Ludwig gritted his teeth, his blue eyes softening as he bent to press a small kiss to his son's forehead.

"_Ich weiß wie du dich fühlst_ (**I know how you feel**)," Germany replied quietly.

The meeting room was largely silent and organized for the first time in the history of the world as the countries took in the awed and nervous faces of the six teens that were scattered around the table with their respective parents and families. China and most of the Asians had gathered in a protective ring around Japan and Greece's sleepy son, while Turkey struggled to edge closer to the teen despite the warning glares of Greece and Egypt. France had smugly seated himself in beside a flushed Canada while Russia winced over Ukraine's endless cooing over her shy niece, who was currently clutching Kumajiro in her thin arms.

Romano had wandered over to look at his two nephews with a reluctant half-smile, his hand still clasped tightly in his son's grip. Spain and Italy were busy comparing their respective children, occasionally giggling happily over how similar their children were to their parents. Prussia- still sporting a black eye from his run in with the guards- was sprawled across one end of the meeting table, his booted feet dangling dangerously close to an annoyed-looking Austria and Switzerland. Meanwhile, America and his daughter continued their argument over which type of fast food was the most satisfying- at the moment, they seemed to be caught between french fries and milkshakes. England stood behind his child, an unusually-fond smile gracing his lips as he informed his absent siblings of the morning's latest developments.

Germany watched all of the nations through slightly-narrowed blue eyes, his lips twitching upwards into another smile when Italy pulled their sons into yet another hug, earning a surprised yelp from Magnus. He sat back in his seat for a moment, allowing himself to enjoy a rare moment where nothing chaotic was occurring-

"KATERINA!"

….And, there went the peaceful moment.

The other occupants of the room straightened in their seats at the sound of the shout, their eyes trained intently on the doors to the meeting room as the sounds of heavy footsteps drew closer. The Asians immediately drew closer to Kiku and his son, while Russia motioned for the reluctant Baltics, Belarus, and Poland to take protective stances in front of his daughter, his lead pipe already held loosely in his hand. Germany sighed and shot a wary glance at Prussia, who merely shook his head in confusion as the footsteps stopped and gave way to a furious pounding on the heavy wooden doors.

"KATERINA IVANOVA BRAGINSKI-WILLIAMS! OUVREZ CETTE PORTE SACRÉMENT EN CE MOMENT! (**Open this damn door right now!**)"

"Marc-kun, please try and restrain yourself-"

"KATERINA!"

Katerina winced and sent a sheepish glance towards her alarmed parents, her flushed cheeks buried in Kumajiro's brilliant white fur. Achilles slowly straightened across the room, his soft brown eyes blinking slowly beneath his mussed chocolate-brown hair.

"... Oh good, they caught up," he murmured quietly, immediately drawing the attention of the rest of his family.

"Who, aru?" China demanded warily, his wok suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

"M-Marc and S-Saichi," Katerina mumbled. "L-looks like t-they're angry..."

"_Ich habe dir gesagt_... (**I told you**)," Magnus muttered, earning himself a sharp smack from Cielo.

The hammering on the door paused for a moment, the sudden silence making several of the nations shiver.

"Like, isn't this Marc kid Russia's other kid?" Poland muttered mutinously. "I guess he, like, got the psycho genes in the family."

Lithuania whimpered and cast a hasty glance over his shoulder towards the giant Russian, who was now smiling sweetly at the oblivious Pole while Ukraine discreetly moved Katerina several inches away.

The door suddenly shattered, sending several shards of wood flying towards the faces of unsuspecting countries... who promptly dove underneath the meeting table as the slim form of a young Japanese girl appeared in the doorway, her thin hands folded tightly around the handle of a baseball bat. She blinked slowly and calmly took in the other occupants of the room, her moss-green eyes flashing with the first hints of anger when she caught sight of Achilles surrounded by a ring of strangers.

"Achilles-" she began, her quiet voice fading into the background when a second teen stormed into the room, his violet eyes practically glowing with fury beneath messy platinum-blond hair, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

The boy came to a halt several feet from the doorway, his eyes zeroing in on Katerina with an intensity that reduced Lativa into a sniffling mess and sent Poland diving for safety behind a trembling Lithuania.

"Katerina..." the boy growled, his expression lightening with relief despite the fury that remained in his eyes. "_Donne-moi une seule bon raison je ne devrais pas te teur tout de suite._ (**Give me one good reason why I shouldn't murder you right now**)"

"Брат ... Пожалуйста, успокоиться, (**Brother... Please calm down**)" the Russian girl sighed, her purple eyes flickering anxiously towards the dumbfounded expressions of her parents. "There was... someone that I needed to meet, and-"

"_Oui!_" Marc snarled. "I suppose you couldn't have, oh, I don't know, _told_ me what you were doing? _Dieu, savez-vous comment j'ai été inquiet, petite sœur? _(**God, do you know how worried I was, little sister?**)" he groaned, his expression softening into one of fond exasperation.

Russia chuckled suddenly and clapped a firm hand on the cowering Poland's shoulder, causing the blonde country to yelp.

"He may be my son, but he is very much like Matvey, da?" the Russian murmured.

Marc stiffened and looked around, suddenly seeming to realize that there were other people in the room. He stared back and forth between Canada and Russia for a long moment, his teeth digging into the skin of his bottom lip.

"_Dieu_," he croaked. "_Mon Dieu... Dieu... M-mon Dieu..._"

The two countries simply smiled and took a few cautious steps towards their son. Marc took a few shaky steps back, his head bent as tears began to run down his cheeks.

"I-I- _Je suis... d__é__sol__é__... _Oh my God, I'm so sorry..." he gasped.

Canada's brow furrowed in confusion and concern as he stepped forward, his fingers brushing gently against the shoulders of the teen's worn jacket.

"W-why are you sorry?" he whispered.

"...We didn't come sooner," the Japanese broke in quietly, the briefest flashes of fear and realization appearing in her stoic green eyes as she took in the countries that were huddled around Achilles. "M-Marc-kun always felt guilty..."

"Saichi," Achilles called sleepily. "...Our parents are really nice."

The girl, Saichi, bowed her head and slowly inched towards her brother and their parents, her hands tightening around her bat as the ring of Asians parted to let her through. She hesitated a few feet from Japan and Greece, her suspiciously-bright green eyes flickering demurely to her feet.

"I-I must also beg forgiveness for not looking for you sooner," she whispered shakily. "大変失礼致しました (**I am so sorry**)... I-I d-didn't watch over my brother like you asked me to. I failed."

"_Je n'ai pas r__é__ussi trop_ (**I failed as well**)," Marc whispered hoarsely.

"Wait... what are you talking about?" America broke in, his cerulean eyes narrowing dangerously behind his glasses. He shot a questioning glance towards Japan, who shook his head in confusion before slowly pulling his daughter towards him in a loose embrace.

"Saichi..." Kiku began, his voice hitching slightly as he spoke his daughter's name for the first time in years. "Please, you don't need to ask for forgiveness..."

Saichi shook her head furiously, her face still lowered in shame.

"Yes I did," she hissed.

"Ve... If Saichi and Marc failed, Magnus and I did, too," Francisco called sadly.

"...Me too," Achilles added, his expression suddenly alert.

"Yeah, ditto," Alyson sighed.

"...I-I d-didn't h-help," Katerina mumbled. "O-only m-made things w-worse..."

"No!" Magnus and Marc growled at the same time. Marc shot the German boy a look before continuing, his violet eyes fierce. "Katenka, nothing was your fault-"

"Stop," Germany interrupted curtly. "What is going on? What happened?"

The eight teens descended into a silence that permeated the room, their eyes darting downwards in near identical motions to stare stubbornly at their feet. France observed the discomfort of his niece and nephew with a sad sort of sympathy, his cornflower-blue eyes meeting Prussia's intense scarlet ones as the albino slowly straightened into a sitting position on the meeting table for the first time since he had entered the room.

The ex-nation sighed and ran a hand through his white hair before reaching out to grip Germany's shoulder, his expression grim.

"Ludwig," he said gently. "They were abused."

**Whoa, dude, this is really long... Huh. Oh well, I guess that's okay, right~?**

**Anyways, sorry that this is a little delayed. And... yeah, nothing really to apologize for... thanks to all of the people who reviewed! You guys rock!**

**Please continue to tell me what you think, and please continue to pray/think for my speech coach's wife. Thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 10

It was rare to see America so bloodthirsty.

"Who abused them?" the normally-cheerful country growled, his bright blue eyes flashing with a savage fury. "Are they still alive?"

England shook his head and pushed past America, his slender hand brushing gently against Alyson's trembling shoulder.

"Alyson," he said gently, his emerald eyes smoldering with repressed anger. "Will you please tell us what happened?"

The American girl shook her head and shot a frantic look towards the other teens, her muscles trembling with remembered pains.

Francisco lifted his head for a brief moment to meet her gaze and forced a tremulous smile onto his lips, his blue eyes slipping closed almost immediately as a tremor ran through his body.

"...None of us like to talk about it," he admitted quietly, immediately drawing the attention of the others in the room. Francisco flinched and turned away from the attention, his curl quivering.

Magnus sighed and pulled his twin close, his other arm trapped under Cielo's tight grip. Romano frowned and attempted to pull his son away from the German teen, only to freeze the moment he caught sight of the tears that gathered in the eyes of all of the young people and ran unhindered down Cielo's cheeks.

"_Dio_," Romano hissed shakily. "What the hell happened?"

There was no reply, only pleading glances cast between the eight teens begging for one of them to speak.

"...O-one of you has to s-speak eventually," Canada called quietly, his violet eyes narrowed with suspicion and anger.

Katerina flinched at the sound of her mother's voice and cast a timid glance up at him, her grip loosening around Kumajiro's body. The polar bear shot her a half-disgruntled look of sympathy and brushed the top of his head against her shaking shoulders.

"...Don't be afraid," the bear muttered. "...What's your name again?"

Katerina smiled shakily and slowly lowered the bear to the ground before straightening and fixing her parents with determined violet eyes.

"I-I c-c-can't tell you a-about it," she whispered. "I'm n-not g-good with words... B-but we all ha-have scars."

The girl reached up and pulled at the red-and-white scarf around her neck, revealing rows of angry red scars and burns carved into the surface of her pale neck. She kept her eyes locked on Canada and Russia, her eyes brimming with tears as she watched their expressions change from shock to horror and fury.

"D-d-don't h-hate m-me, p-please," she choked. "S-s-she d-didn't l-like m-me."

Russia shook his head vehemently and strode forward, his strong arms wrapping around his daughter, his chin resting gently against the silky surface of her silvery-blonde hair.

"Нет, мы не ненавидим вас (**No, we don't hate you**)," he whispered. "We could n-never..." The Russian's voice broke off and he bent to bury his face in Katerina's hair, his shoulders trembling. "I- I am so sorry. I never wanted you to be scarred like me."

Katerina stared up at him, her violet eyes drifting hesitantly to the edges of red and silver scars that were barely visible beneath the thick purple fabric of his scarf. She choked on a cry and dug her fingers into the fabric of his jacket, her tear-stained face turning to look at her brother.

"Mitka?" she whispered pleadingly.

Marc sighed and drew closer towards his family, his trembling fingers slowly pushing off his jacket. Without another word, he pulled his dirty t-shirt over his head and turned, revealing raised scars and scrapes were scattered across his skin like marks on a map.

"I got in her way many times," he murmured. "...Saichi?"

Saichi stiffened and moved away from Japan's protective embrace, her eyes widening in surprise when Achilles's hand tightened around her arm.

"...Together?" he sighed sleepily.

Saichi nodded to her brother and waited until his hand had left her wrist before she pushed the sleeves of her worn grey sweater up past her elbows and held out her arms, staring wordlessly at the remains of cuts that had danced across her veins.

"...S-she tried to convince others that I was not stable and needed to be put away," the Japanese girl whispered.

Achilles came to his sister's side and pushed back the locks of his unruly chocolate-brown hair until a scar was visible along the edge of his scalp. The Greek boy flashed a rare glare towards the watching nations, his deep brown eyes narrowed with determination.

"...I was good at hiding from her," he admitted. "But I couldn't hide when she hurt Saichi..."

Achilles's sister bit her lip and lowered her arms, her hands clenching into tight fists at her sides. Achilles sighed again and glanced over his shoulder, his eyes tightening when he saw Cielo watching them with narrowed eyes.

"...You don't have to, Cielo," the Greek offered quietly.

"_Vaffanculo_ (**Fuck you**)," Cielo snapped. The boy pulled away from Magnus and Francisco and yanked at his own shirt, his amber eyes shooting fearfully towards his parents as he did so.

A low growl broke through Spain's lips when he saw his son's chest carved with burns and scars that reached from the tips of the boy's shoulders down to his stomach. The Spaniard took several shaky steps forward pulled his son into a tight embrace, his muscles trembling.

"..._Los voy a matar, voy a matarlos a todos_ (**I'll kill them, I'll kill them all**)," he snarled. "_El que te haga da__ñ__o, te lo juro que va a morir_ (**Whoever hurt you, I swear that they will die**)."

Cielo shook his head and struggled to pull away from his father, his olive cheeks wet with tears.

"She hated me, too," he grumbled. "S-said I was too 'fiery'..."

Romano gritted his teeth and brought his shaking hands to cover his face, his eyes flickering towards Italy as the younger Italian twin began to weep.

"C-Cisco?" Feliciano whispered. "M-Magnus?'

The twins turned to each other, their hands tightening in supportive grips around their wrists.

"...She starved us both, just like the others," Magnus sighed. "Sometimes she hit us."

"V-ve... Sometimes we were burned," Francisco added quietly. The brunette reached down and pulled up one of his pant-legs, his fingers brushing gently against the barest hints of burns. "...We can't show you all of the scars."

"She hated my hair," Alyson added, her green eyes still locked on the ground beside her feet. "...Used to throw me near fires hoping that it would just burn off. Sometimes she cut it off herself with shears, and it always left scars. F-Francisco, Marc, and Magnus always tried to stop her before she could do anything worse."

"Mitka and Magnus would sneak in and visit me when she locked me away," Katerina recalled quietly.

"...Saichi was there to stop the bleeding when the wounds got too serious," Marc said with a sad smile.

"Achilles tried to protect me all the time," Saichi murmured.

"Cielo let me hold him when the pain became too much," Achilles sighed, his brown eyes softening as he sent Cielo a fond smile.

"S-shut up..." Cielo muttered. "...Damn b-bastard helped me hide sometimes..."

"Katerina... never let me give up," Magnus admitted, causing the Russian girl to stare at him in surprise. "She never let any of us give up."

Germany folded his hands into fists, his muscles trembling with the need to go after- to destroy every thing that had caused his children so much pain.

"Who was this person?" he demanded furiously.

"H-Her name was Annette," Francisco sighed. "W-we found out that she was Canadian... Probably why she h-hated Marc and Katerina so much."

Canada stiffened, his purple eyes narrowing dangerously behind his glasses.

"Is she still alive?" he demanded.

"None of us killed her," Cielo snapped. "...The others might have, though. They didn't want us to escape."

"Others?" America snarled. "What others?"

"There were always other people that came in, every week or so," Marc explained flatly. "To check up on us. We... we asked Achilles to listen to their conversations several times. He told us that we were supposed to be dead by now, but that there had been a change of plans. They... they said that the way we were now, it would be more painful to..." He stopped, his jaw tightening as his expression darkened.

"More painful to what?" England asked quietly, no longer bothering to hide the anger that was clearly visible in his flashing eyes and flushed cheeks.

"...They wanted to hurt our parents," Achilles murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. "For creating us."

"T-they called us abominations," Katerina added. "W-we... didn't understand what they meant for a while... I-I thought that they were talking about the dreams that we would have, or the fact that we were so different from other children..."

"...They called you abominations, because you were the children of countries, aru?" China wondered.

"No..." Japan sighed. "No, it wasn't that..."

"They called them abominations," England realized. "Because both of their parents were men."

**I think that this is a bit shorter than last time, but I just had to end it there... Heh, sorry!**

**Okay, so, I feel like I should give you guys a warning right about now. See, the way I'm planning this, this story is going to start getting a _lot_ darker in a few chapters... Like, probably some of the darkest things that I've written. So, yeah. Just a word to the wise: you've been warned.**

**But, that won't happen for another chapter or so~**

**Well, thanks for the reviews! You guys rock! Make sure to tell me how I'm doing, and please continue to keep my speech coach's wife in your prayers. She's not doing well...**

**Thank you all, have a Happy Easter!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 11

It had taken a long time to get out of the meeting... Although, Spain couldn't help but note that it was one of the few where the countries actually got anything done.

Cielo and Romano were in front of him, their hands still clasped tightly between them as Romano gently lead their son towards their hotel suite for the duration of the meetings. Spain couldn't help but smile at the sight of Romano with their child, his emerald eyes softening into liquid green when Cielo raised a shaking hand to brush tendrils of his curly dark-brown hair behind his ear. The boy was so much like both of his parents...

_If only we knew how much he was like us_, the nation mused, his brow furrowing slightly in apprehension and confusion.

"What did you say, bastardo?"

Antonio blinked and glanced up to meet two pairs of confused amber eyes, unaware that he had spoken aloud. The Spaniard felt his cheeks heat up and he shrugged, his brow still furrowed.

"I was just wondering... How much Cielo was like us," he explained slowly. "If he- if all of them were sort of like nations."

Lovino frowned and cocked his head to the side, his gaze flickering between Antonio and their son.

"It's not like anymore nations have suddenly popped out of nowhere," he pointed out.

"_Si.._" Antonio agreed slowly, still unconvinced.

"... Maybe I'm something other than a nation?" Cielo suggested hesitantly, his cheeks burning a furious red with embarrassment as both of his parents turned to stare at him. "I mean, we've all had really weird dreams a-and stuff..."

Lovino frowned and glanced over at Antonio, his teeth biting into the skin of his bottom lip.

"But then... what would you be?" he wondered.

Spain merely shook his head and reached past the other two to open the door to the hotel suite, a small smile flickering across his tanned lips when Cielo slipped in after a thoughtful Romano. The boy stopped as soon as he entered the room, his amber eyes suddenly wide and riveted on a point across the room. Antonio frowned and followed Cielo's gaze, his frown deepening when he saw that the teen was now staring at the map of Italy that the someone had placed in the room ages ago.

"What is it?" he asked quietly, immediately drawing the attention of Lovino.

Cielo shook his head and slowly moved past his parents towards the map, his slim fingers brushing hesitantly against the island of Sicily that floated in the lower corner of the map.

"Were there... any wars that were fought here?" he asked slowly. "Wars that b-both of you fought in?"

Romano nodded, his delicate brows still puckered in confusion. "Why do you ask?"

"I-I have dreams of war," Cielo admitted quietly. "Lots of wars... A-and... I-I think that this is why."

Spain just shook his head, still uncomprehending. "Wha-?"

"You think that you're Sicily," Romano interrupted, his lips parting into a small "O" of understanding.

Cielo nodded, his amber eyes still locked on the large Italian island.

"_So di essere in Sicilia_,(**I know that I'm Sicily**)" he murmured.

"_Pronto?_"

Germany glanced up from the table that he had been scrubbing at the sound of Italy's voice, immediately drawing the attention of one of the two teenagers that were munching on Feliciano's pasta across the table. Magnus slowly put his fork aside and pushed away from the pasta, earning himself a horrified look from his twin.

"Ve... A-aren't you going to eat that?" Francisco hissed.

"Shh," Magnus whispered sharply, his crystal blue eyes locked on Ludwig as the German straightened and moved closer to Feliciano's voice.

"_Cosa? Dici sul serio?Ma abbiamo apena-_" (**What? Are you serious? But we just-**)

There was a pause and a small sigh from Italy's end. "_Si...Noi ci saremo..._ (**Yes... We'll be there..**)"

Feliciano walked slowly back into the kitchen of his New York apartment, a guilty smile twisting his lips when he met the confused and concerned gazes of the rest of his family.

"_Mamma? Cosa sta succedendo?_ (**Mama? What's going on?**)" Francisco mumbled, his mouth still full of spaghetti.

Feliciano beamed at his newest nickname and hurried forward to fondly ruffle the twins' auburn hair, a small giggle breaking through his lips when he caught sight of Magnus's flustered expression.

"Ve~ _Fratello_ just called," he explained, his hazel eyes flickering towards Ludwig as the German drew closer to the group. "He all of us to go back to the United Nations for another meeting."

"_Was_? (**What?**) Why?" he demanded.

Italy shrugged, a small flicker of worry appearing in his cheerful expression.

"He said that it was about Cielo," the Italian admitted slowly.

The twins exchanged worried glances before simultaneously getting to their feet.

"We're ready," Magnus said simply.

Canada wasn't entirely sure what he would have done after the day's meeting. Gone out to dinner, perhaps, or simply returned home with his newly-reunited family to make pancakes and borscht and sit around the table catching up with his children...

Returning to the meeting room at nine o'clock at night with two tired teenagers and a murderous Russian hadn't been a part of either of his plans.

"They had better have a good reason for dragging us back here, da~?" Russia grumbled with false cheer. "Otherwise I will have to get my lead pipe and-"

"I-Ivan, p-p-please," Canada hissed, his pale cheeks reddening when he noticed that Marc and Katerina were both watching them with interest. "_Pas maintenant, je ne veux pas leur faire peur._ (**Not now, I don't want to scare them**)"

"Y-you didn't scare us," Katerina whispered, her small hand slipping easily into Russia's large hand. "M-Marc is a lot w-worse when he hasn't had maple syrup for a long t-time..."

Marc rolled his eyes and playfully tapped his younger sister on the head.

"I'm not that bad," he argued half-heartedly.

"R-remember that one time w-with Alyson a-and the baseball bat?"

Matthew raised his eyebrows while Ivan chuckled, his murderous aura disappearing as he glanced down at his son.

"You threatened America's child with a baseball bat?" the Russian asked.

Marc shrugged and flashed his father a childishly-sweet smile. "There weren't any hockey sticks."

Ivan burst out laughing and and reached out with his free arm to pull Marc into a tight hug, his violet eyes sparkling with glee.

"Я люблю своих детей! (**I love my children**!)" he giggled.

Canada simply smiled and held open the meeting room door for his family, his brow furrowing the moment the door closed behind them and he caught sight of the other countries and teenagers that were assembled around the table, their expressions ranging from irriation, to confusion, to (in Achilles and Heracles's case) exhaustion.

Spain, Romano, and Cielo were nowhere to be found.

"W-where are they, eh?" Canada asked, his quiet voice carrying surprisingly well through the quiet room.

Most of the countries glanced up and frowned, their heads cocked to the side in confusion.

"Who-?"

"Canada," Russia, Katerina, and Marc interrupted at the same time, their identical violet eyes flashing with a protective fury that made the Canadian laugh.

Spain and Romano hurried into the room only seconds later, several maps clutched tightly in their hands. Cielo came in close behind them, his cheeks flushing a bright red when Achilles blinked up at him sleepily.

"...You're late," he noted quietly.

Cielo's blush deepened and he glared at the Greek boy.

"S-shut up, _bastardo_," he muttered. "We had to get some stuff."

"What?" Germany demanded from his place across the room, his cheeks tinged a light pink due to the two Italians that were currently hugging his arms. Magnus stood behind his father, his expression going between amusement and irritation.

"Be patient and we'll fucking explain, potato bastard," Romano snapped. The Italian promptly dumped the maps onto the table in a disorganized pile on the meeting table.

Spain sighed and bent to organize the fallen maps into neat piles, his own papers slipping effortlessly into the piles. Romano rolled his eyes at the Spaniard's attempt at organization and snatched a map of Southern Italy off of the top of one of the piles, his amber eyes flashing with a hint of nervousness as he turned to face the other countries and their children.

"Today, when we got back to the room, Cielo pointed to a map like this and told us that he was Sicily," he explained curtly. "He said that he had been having dreams for a while about wars, and that he thought that the dreams had something to do with Sicily. S-so..." The Italian trailed off and shot Spain a pleading glance.

"So, we were wondering what would happen if we showed maps to your children," Spain added happily.

The countries stared back at them blankly, their brows furrowed thoughtfully. After a moment, England spoke up, his bright green eyes flickering with curiosity.

"Which maps do you have?" he asked slowly.

Romano wordlessly grabbed a handful of maps and tossed them towards the Englishman. England caught them easily and looked them over, his large eyebrows furrowing when he saw maps of the American Southwest mixed in with images of the British Isles. Alyson craned her neck to get a better look at the maps, her green eyes suddenly widening behind her glasses. In a matter of seconds, she had snatched one of the maps out of England's hands, her free hand rising to brush several strands of her thick golden hair out of her face.

"There," she whispered, her fingertips brushing against a small dot on the map.

America glanced at the map, his lips curving into a small smile when he saw that she was looking at a map of the East Coast.

"New York City?" he read slowly. "You mean, where we are right now?"

Alyson nodded eagerly, her smile dimming when she saw the disappointment in England's expression.

"Um... Sorry, Mum," she muttered, looking slightly guilty.

England shook his head and waved away her apologies with a small smile.

"It's quite alright," he assured her.

Alyson smiled tentatively and raised her head to meet Katerina's questioning gaze, her expression suddenly mischievous.

"Your turn, Kat!" she called happily. "You and Marc!"

Katerina flushed and nodded timidly, her teeth digging into her lip when Spain passed several maps to the siblings. Marc hesitantly picked up one of the maps of Canada, his violet lingering for several seconds on the paper before he raised them to meet the anxious gazes of his parents.

"Vancouver," he announced quietly. "I... I had dreams about the Winter Olympics two years ago..."

Katerina looked up from her own maps and stared at her brother incredulously.

"You never mentioned them," she murmured.

Marc shrugged and shifted uncomfortably.

"... _Je ne savais pas comment_ (**I didn't know how to**)," he mumbled.

His sister frowned but turned back to her maps, her brow furrowing as she flipped silently through the maps of Canada. After a moment, she picked up one of the maps of Russia, a timid smile rising to her lips.

"Москва," she told them, her voice unusually confident. "I am Moscow."

Russia smiled and pulled his daughter into a tight hug, while Canada smiled tremulously at both of his children.

"_Je suis fier de vous deux, Vancouver et Moscou_, (**I am proud of you both, Vancouver and Moscow)**" he told them.

"I would like a map," Magnus called before either of the siblings could reply.

Francisco nodded silently and detached himself from Germany's arm to reach for another map. After a short moment, Saichi and Achilles silently reached for maps of their own. The room descended into silence for a long moment as the four teens glanced over the maps, the other teens and countries watching them carefully.

Surprisingly, Achilles was the first to look up from his map, his lips curving upwards into a sleepy smile.

"Athens," he murmured. "...There are cats there, right?'

Greece nodded and absently patted his son's head. "...Lots of cats."

"Tokyo," Saichi whispered, her cheeks bright red.

Japan allowed himself a small smile and nodded, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

Italy grinned at his friend before turning back to his own sons, his breath catching in his throat when Francisco looked up with a wide smile.

"_Milano_! (**Milan**)" he announced proudly.

Italy clapped his hands happily and glanced expectantly at Magnus, who merely shifted uneasily and ducked his head. The German boy slowly reached out and pointed to a map of Germany, his fingertip hovering less than an inch above the small dot labeled "Berlin".

Germany nodded and smiled hesitantly.

"_S-sehr gut_," he muttered. "_Sehr gut_."

Spain laughed and clapped his hands to get the attention of the other countries.

"Well, I suppose that you guys can all go home now, if you want," he told them happily. "We'll let the other countries know what we have discovered at the next meeting."

Russia nodded and started to get to his feet, only to be held back by Canada.

"I-If you d-don't mind, I want to discuss what this will mean," the Canadian said slowly. "For all of us."

England and Japan nodded in silent agreement, while America, Greece, and Russia simply settled back into their chairs.

Germany hesitated and glanced over at his sons, his blue eyes narrowing with concern when he saw Francisco yawn.

"...Do you two want to wait outside for us?" he asked hesitantly. "We won't be long."

Francisco nodded immediately and dragged Magnus out of the room before the other boy could object. After a moment, Alyson rose as well, followed by Katerina, Cielo, and the others. Saichi paused in the doorway, allowing the others to leave the room ahead of her as she turned to look back at her parents. For a brief moment, she frowned, wondering why she suddenly had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Japan caught her eye and smiled encouragingly, his brown eyes soft.

"Just wait out in the hall for us," he urged quietly. "We will be out soon."

Saichi nodded slowly and left the room, her shoulders tensing the moment the door closed behind her.

_Why does this feel like good-bye?_

Magnus breathed a sigh of relief when Francisco finally released his wrist, his back pressing briefly against the wall as the others passed by him. He felt his cheeks flush when Katerina shot him a small smile and turned away, his hands clenching reflexively by his sides. Dammit, why did he get so nervous-?

What was that?

The German teen frowned and pulled away from the wall, his blue eyes locked on one of the doorways farther down the nearly-deserted hallway. For a brief moment, he had thought-

There is was again.

Magnus pushed away from the wall and crept silently towards the doorway, his fists now raised protectively in front of him. He paused in the doorway to take a deep breath before ducking into the dark room, his eyes darting warily around the silent area. It looked like another meeting room...

He moved forward hesitantly, his fingers searching the wall beside him for a light switch. Bare skin skimmed across the hard surface of the wall, brushing briefly against soft fabric and even softer skin...

Wait.

Magnus's eyes widened and he reached again, his nails catching once more on the fabric before it slipped away. His lips opened in the beginnings of a yell before something hard smashed into the back of his head, sending him into a darkness thicker than anything that he had ever known...

**Sorry! I didn't mean for this update to take so long! But, I do have an excuse: It's an evil monster known only as... The TERM PAPER! dun dun dunnnnn!**

**But, it is mostly done now, so I'm super happy! And... Yeah! Hope you guys are doing okay! Please review and tell me what you think of this, okay?**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 12

"Francisco?"

The Italian teen glanced up, his blue eyes brightening when he saw Katerina and Alyson watching him expectantly. Then he noticed Katerina's expression.

"Ve~ Is something wrong?" he asked slowly, his brow furrowing in concern.

Katerina hurriedly shook her head, her cheeks flaring a dark red as the other teens glanced over in their direction. Alyson smirked and threw her arm around the Russian girl's shoulder.

"Kat here wants some advice," the American sang cheerfully.

Francisco grinned and leaned forward, his eyes brightening with interest. Alyson winked at him and inched closer, pretending not to notice the way Cielo, Achilles, Saichi, and Marc were watching their exchange with interest.

"What kind of advice?" Francisco asked slyly.

"Well~" Alyson began.

"IwanttotellMagnusthatIlovehim," Katerina broke in quickly, her blush deepening to a fantastic tomato-red.

Francisco beamed and clapped gleefully, earning himself a smug smirk from Alyson. Behind them, Marc groaned and wearily rubbed his hand against his forehead, not noticing the amused glances that Saichi and Cielo were sending his way.

"_Dieu_ (**God**)," he grumbled.

"Don't listen to him, Kat," Alyson giggled.

Katerina nodded mutely and glanced at Francisco, who was still smiling at her gleefully.

"S-so... w-what do I d-do?" she asked timidly.

The Italian chuckled and reached out to gently pat the younger girl on top of the head.

"Ve~ Don't worry, I-" he began, only to be cut off by a dull thud from down the hall.

Marc frowned and moved towards the sound, his frown deepening when Saichi and Katerina followed him silently. Francisco pouted before following them as well, leaving Alyson, Achilles, and Cielo behind. The three remaining teens exchanged uneasy glances, never noticing the eyes that watched them, waiting for a chance to strike...

Marc motioned for Katerina and the others to stay behind him as he edged into a darkened room, his violet eyes struggling to cut through the shadows that draped across the room.

"...Are you sure that the sound came from this room?" he murmured.

Saichi nodded silently behind him, the palm of her hand pressed gently against his shoulder blades. She paused, her green eyes zeroing in on a large lump that had been sprawled in the middle of the room.

"Marc," she whispered, nodding in the direction of the lump.

The Canadian frowned and started to move towards it, only to be pushed out of the way by a suddenly-frantic Francisco. The Italian sank to his knees, his trembling fingers reaching out to brush against a limp curl.

"_F-fratello_?" he whimpered. "_Dio..._ Marc! _Fratello_ is bleeding!"

Katerina sucked in a sharp breath and shoved past her brother, her eyes widening in silent horror as Francisco gently pulled his brother's limp body into his shaking arms.

"W-where?" she gasped. "W-where i-is he b-bleeding?"

"His head," Saichi told her quietly. Katerina jumped slightly and shot a worried glance at the Japanese girl.

"H-how can you t-tell?" she asked.

Saichi shrugged and joined the three teens on the ground, Marc following close behind her.

"Achilles and I have good night vision," she murmured. "He says it's because of cats..."

Katerina chuckled despite herself, her pale fingers tentatively reaching out to grasp Magnus's limp hand.

"Will he be alright?" she whimpered.

Saichi nodded and offered the younger girl a sympathetic smile.

"Yes," she assured her. "He should be-" She broke off suddenly, her moss-green eyes widening in shock and horror.

They never heard the gun shot.

They only saw its consequences.

Alyson never heard the screams.

She had caught sight of Tink hovering near the end of the hall only seconds after Marc, Saichi, Katerina, and Francisco disappeared from sight. She frowned and slipped away from Cielo and Achilles- Achilles was too busy trying to hug a swearing Cielo to really pay attention anyways- her frown deepening when she saw the worried expression on Tink's face.

"Hey," she greeted quietly. "Something wrong, Tink?"

The fairy trembled and fluttered closer to Alyson's face, her delicate features twisted with fear and apprehension.

"You need to get to the meeting room, Aly," she whispered. "Hurry. There isn't much time-"

The low slap of soft footsteps against a bare floor, the rise of gooseflesh across the skin as the body sounded its first alert. Alyson stiffened and glanced over her shoulder, never seeing the look of horror that spread across Tink's face as the teenager was sent sprawling onto the floor by a well-aimed blow to the jaw.

The fairy trembled and flew away from its companion, its tiny hands pressing against its ears as more screams erupted from farther away, only to be cut off by eerie silence before they could really reach their full volume. A loud cry in Italian mixed with furious Spanish pierced the air for a few final moments, only to die abruptly as the first few countries began to barrel out of the meeting room.

Tink only whimpered and slowly floated down towards the floor, her miniscule face buried in spindly fingers.

It was no use, nothing could be done.

They were gone.

**Yeah, this is a bit shorter, sorry about that. I promise that the next chapter will be longer! And possibly extremely painful for all involved but I'm sure you all don't care about that at all~**

**Anyways, please review, let me know how you think, feel free to yell "vodka" "tomatoes" "Herr Schtick" or "beer", you are all awesome, etc, etc...**

**Love you guys~!**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 13

_There's a phrase that I could use here, I think_, Alyson mused, her eyes shut tightly against the throbbing ache that continued to radiate from her bruised jaw. _Now what is it..._

_ Oh, right._

"I am so fucking screwed," she declared out loud, not really expecting a response from the silent room that she had been huddled in for the God-knows-how-long.

"No shit," someone else groaned, their youthful voice cracking with a mixture of pain and fear.

Alyson stiffened and lifted her head from its current position on her curled up knees, her green eyes flying open as she combed the room for the source of the voice.

"...Cielo?" she whispered, not entirely sure if the slim boy with bloodied dark hair was real.

"_Si_," the Italian muttered, his thin arms wrapped tightly against the legs that he had curled against his heaving chest.

"How long have you been in here?" Alyson demanded, her eyes flickering unwillingly to the blood that was still dripping from a wound to the boy's skull. She frowned when she noticed a small crack in the lens of her glasses, her trembling fingers tugging irritably at a few strands of tangled golden hair that had fallen into her sweaty face.

Cielo shrugged, his face half-turned away from the American. "_Yo no s__é_ (**I don't know**)," he muttered. "As long as you?"

Alyson' frown deepened and she leaned forward, her palms pressing against the cold stone floor in an effort to steady herself. "Why didn't you talk to me before, then? I thought I was alone in this shit-hole."

The boy shrugged again, his shoulders trembling long after the small movement had been completed. "I... was afraid that you wouldn't answer."

Alyson blinked and slowly edged forward until she was next to Cielo, her eyes widening in alarm when she saw the tears that were welling in the boy's wide amber eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

The Italian shuddered and shot her a half-hearted glare, not quite able to hide the fear in his eyes.

"I was conscious when they dragged me in here," he whispered. "I don't know if they knew but... I could see everything. They dragged me passed other rooms, a-and the others were in them but I couldn't... Katerina wasn't there, I didn't see her but... I looked into one and... _Dio...D-dio..._"

Cielo shuddered violently and pitched forward, the tears now streaming down his cheeks as he scrubbed furiously at them with his clenched hands. Alyson caught him moments before he collapsed onto the floor, her heart sinking as he continued to stammer words in choked Italian and Spanish. Shit, she wasn't good at comforting people... Katerina and Marc were were more suited to this... Still, she could try.

"Cielo," she murmured. "Cielo, sweetie, you need to tell me what you saw, alright? I know you're upset, but you need to tell me: Is any one hurt?"

The boy bit back a small sob and unexpectedly buried his face into Alyson's soiled t-shirt, his trembling fingers seeking hers as he whispered a small swear.

"S-S-Saichi," he whimpered. "I s-saw her and s-she wasn't moving, Aly. Sh-she wasn't moving and there was b-blood o-on her shirt... S-so much blood..."

Alyson paled and tightened her grip on the crying boy, her heart hammering in her chest at the thought of Saichi... _No, nononononono, she can't be dead..._

"Did you see anyone else?" she pressed, struggling to keep her voice calm as she rubbed gentle circles into Cielo's back.

He nodded slowly. "A-achilles... He was in another room. H-he d-doesn't know a-about Saichi... M-magnus was with him I t-think. H-his head is bl-bleeding like mine, a-and Francisco was being thrown in with them as I passed. Marc... Marc was with Saichi." He stopped and ducked his head, his shoulders still trembling.

Alyson took a deep breath and reached out to grasp the boy's chin, forcing him to look at her. Cielo glared and struggled weakly against her grip, his amber eyes still wide with fear and streaming with tears.

"What about Kat?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head, his jaw clenched. "S-she wasn't in any of the rooms that they sh-showed me," he croaked.

Alyson groaned and released his chin, allowing the younger teen to bury his head in her shoulder once more. She held onto him tightly, her blonde head bent over his as her vision began to blur. She glanced towards the locked door that separated them from the rest of her loved ones, her heart sinking like a stone in her chest when she saw a familiar scrawl carved into the aged wood of the door.

_I know where we are..._

"Then where the bloody hell are they?"

England was talking to the air again.

America was slumped in his chair at the meeting room table, his face buried in his shaking hands as his lover continued to hiss furious questions to his 'magical friends'. Around him, the American could hear the soft thuds of anxious and agitated footsteps against the meeting room floor, although he refused to look up and see who it was. He didn't think that he could see his brother's devastated expression again without breaking down...

"I don't care if it's difficult to track them, Pyx! Take some of my magic if you need to, alright? This is my _daughter_-"

"Arthur..."

"Dammit, Tink, I know you're upset but you need to tell me what you saw! What did they look like? How many of them were there?"

"Arthur."

"_Yes_ she can see you! Tink has already said as much. For God's sake, Hook, don't you listen to anything?"

"_Arthur_."

"Minty, have you heard anything from-"

"ARTHUR, SHUT UP!"

England jumped and glanced down at America, his emerald eyes flashing with hurt as Alfred lifted his head to glare at him. After a moment, the Briton's expression hardened and he returned the glare.

"What?" he demanded icily. "Did you not notice that I was in the middle of an important-"

"Shut up," Alfred whispered wearily. "Just shut up..."

"Alfred, I don't think you understand-"

"No, no, I don't! I _don't_ understand how you think that now is the time to be conversing with your damn imaginary friends! _Our kid is missing_!"

"I'm aware of that!" Arthur yelled, immediately grabbing the attention of those nations that hadn't heard Alfred's shout moments before. "Why do you think I'm talking to the fairies? They can help us-"

"How the hell can they help if they're _not real_?"

That was a mistake. Alfred felt his heart sink as Arthur's jaw tightened and he turned away, his green eyes suspiciously-bright beneath his tousled gold hair. America sighed and reached out to the Briton, only to wince as England jerked away.

"Arthur..."

"Don't touch me!" England snapped. "They are real.." he added quietly.

America groaned and ran a hand through his hair, his baby-blue eyes narrowing uneasily when he saw the others watching him with various expressions of sympathy and irritation. Alfred ignored them and turned back to the Englishman that was sitting stiffly next to him, his face turned carefully away from Alfred's.

"Where are they?' Alfred asked quietly.

"Who?" Arthur snapped curtly.

"Your... The fairies."

England shot him a suspicious glare and reluctantly gestured to the air above his left shoulder, his eyes narrowing into slits when America immediately focused on the air.

Alfred took a deep breath leaned forward, his expression falling into one of sheepish apology.

"Uh... Hey, fairies?" he mumbled hesitantly. "Look, I'm sorry for, you know, saying you don't exist and... stuff. I'm just really worried about my kid, okay? I just- I just got her back, and she's... she's so much like Artie, and I can't _stand_ not knowing if she's okay, or if she's hurt or..." His voice trailed off and he swallowed thickly, his blue eyes shutting briefly as pain and worry overwhelmed him. England watched him carefully, his lips falling open slightly in shock and awe, his cheeks suddenly wet.

America cleared his throat and refocused on the air over England's shoulder. "Alright, I still can't see you, and to be honest, right now I feel kind of insane for talking to you, but... If Iggy trusts you, then fine. Do whatever you have to to find our kid, and I... I promise I'll... I don't know, I'll stop whining whenever you guys have a conversation with Artie at 3 in the morning right after we've had se-"

"They get the message!" England broke in hastily, his cheeks bright red. He smiled tentatively at America and allowed the younger nation to pull him close, his head resting gently on Alfred's shoulder. "...Thank you."

America smiled and gave England's shoulder a squeeze. "We'll find her, Artie."

England nodded and allowed his gaze to wander around the rest of the room, his eyes darkening slightly when they met Canada's sad violets.

Matthew managed a small half-smile for his former guardian, his gaze flickering almost immediately to the angry Russian at his side as Ivan continued to hiss frantic instructions to what remained of the KGB, his free hand clenched into a powerful fist by his side. A little ways away, Italy was crying quietly in a chair, his wide hazel eyes following Germany as the blond stalked restlessly across the room, his normally-stoic features twisted into murderous fury. Greece paced several feet away, his moss-green eyes unusually-sharp and flashing dangerously beneath his tangled brown hair, his slim fingers wrapped so tightly around his cellphone that his knuckles were white. Every so often, England caught a snatches of rapid, furious Greek interspersed with rough Arabic and murmured curses that the Briton assumed were directed towards Turkey.

Like Italy, Japan was huddled in a chair of his own in a far corner of the room, his head bent over his own phone as he communicated quietly with his relatives. England winced when he several distinctive wails from China and Taiwan, remembering the screams and curses that his own brothers had fired into his eardrums when he had called them earlier. Most of the other nations' relatives had also been called and were out in the streets of New York City streets searching for the teens. Norway had summoned his own sprites into the search, and England couldn't help but shudder at thought of whatever poor soul crossed the Dane, Swede, and Fin that were with the Norwegian, not to mention Switzerland and Hungary, who were currently stalking through Brooklyn armed with several rifles and a frying pan.

A whispered curse forced England's thoughts back to the meeting room, making the Briton focus immediately on the other Italian in the area. Romano was crouched protectively on the ground, his anxious and furious amber eyes following Spain as the country of passion attempted to smash his fist into the wall once again, only to be held back by France and Prussia before the blow could connect. Francis and Gilbert had arrived several minutes earlier, having been summoned- incredibly enough- by Lovino to help calm Antonio. The Spaniard had nearly barreled into the streets when they had first discovered that the teens were missing, and it had taken the combined efforts of Germany, America, Romano, and Russia to hold him back. England found himself feeling a glimmer of sympathy for his former nemesis, his fury roiling within him as he thought of the bastards that had taken his daughter away from him once again. There would be hell to pay for the fools that had _dared_ to-

"England?"

Arthur stiffened and turned immediately to the bright gold fairy that was now hovering in front of his eyes, her wings fluttering nervously against her back.

"What did you find, Pyx?" he asked quietly, his muscles tensing when Alfred immediately glanced down at him.

The fairy shot a small smile towards the confused American before she turned back to England, her expression immediately grim.

"I found them."

**Sooo... This took a little longer than I thought~ Sorry for the delay!**

**Also, just a quick warning: Finals- curse them- are starting at the end of this week, so most of my days are going to be spent studying until they are over. This will probably cause another delay in my updating schedule, but there is good news! Summer is coming! :D**

**Please forgive me for taking so long, and please have patience, okay? I swear more is coming (and honestly, I think a lot of people would want to kill me if I ended the story here). Wish me luck on my finals!**

**You guys rock, and good luck with your own end of the year strife! Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 14

It took Alyson a long time to notice the fairy hovering beside the door.

"_Tink_?" she gasped, causing the young Italian in her arms to stiffen and stare at her in confusion.

The fairy forced a small smile and waved tentatively at the American teenager, her bright green wings fluttering dejectedly in the air.

"A-are you okay, Aly?" the fairy whispered hesitantly, her golden eyes bright with magic and tears.

Alyson shrugged, her emerald eyes tightening in a wince as the movement sent another throb of pain through her jaw.

"Can't complain, I guess," she muttered, her gaze flickering down towards the small trickle of blood that continued to leak through Cielo's hair.

Tink winced. "I-I'm sorry, Aly," she mumbled.

Alyson shook her head and reached out to brush her finger against the fairy's silky hair.

"It's not your fault, Tink," she murmured. "Can you help us get out of here?"

Tink nodded and flew towards the door, only to hesitate the moment she caught sight of the scribble above the door.

"Aly..." she whispered.

"I know," Alyson sighed.

"Will you stop talking to the fucking air?" Cielo growled weakly, his bloodshot amber eyes still hidden in the American's shirt.

Alyson sighed but remained silent, her green eyes narrowed anxiously beneath her tangled blonde hair as Tink disappeared through the half-rotted wood. A smile flickered across her features when the door opened, her first true smile in hours. Cielo stiffened and hesitantly lifted his head from its perch on her shoulder, his amber eyes wide.

"_Che diavolo_? (**What the hell**)" he whispered.

Alyson grinned and reached up to give Tink a small high-five, her eyes flashing with triumph.

"Fairies rule," she informed the Italian smugly.

Katerina was dreaming.

She had to be dreaming.

She _had_ to be.

Otherwise...

"Oh, look. The _princess_ decided to join us."

She was in hell.

Katerina slowly opened her eyes, a low moan breaking through her swollen and cracked lips as bright, merciless white light slammed into her eyes and sent lightening bolts of pain through her skull. She reached up instinctively to shield her eyes from the glare, only to shriek as another wave of pain washed over her. She glanced down at her arms warily, her violet eyes widening in horror when she saw the impossible angle that the appendage was bent in. And... was that blood?

_I can't see clearly... Where are my glasses?_

"You done looking, princess?" a voice sneered.

Katerina flinched and glanced in the direction of the voice, her heart hammering against her ribcage when she caught sight of the familiar black eyes that still haunted her dreams.

"M-M-Miss A-Annette..." she squeaked.

The Canadian woman smiled thinly and reached out to brush her fingers along the Russian girl's jaw. Katerina whimpered as the woman's nails began to dig into her skin, causing thin rivulets of blood to run down her neck. Annette merely smirked and removed her hand, her heels clicking smartly against the concrete floor as she walked to another corner of the room. Katerina whimpered again, her eyes widening in alarm when she caught sight of a knife and a pile of rope huddled in the shadows.

Annette smirked again at the sight of the girl's alarm and crouched, her thin fingers gently caressing the hilt of the knife, her black eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Did you miss me, _cherie_?" she murmured.

"Н-нет (**N-no**)," Katerina whispered honestly. She sucked in a sharp breath as Annette straightened and moved towards her, her pale fingers curled lazily around the knife.

The Canadian woman paused and cocked her head, her lips curving into a humorless smile.

"So honest," she simpered. "I suppose you haven't forgotten what I do to liars."

"Нет (**no**)," the Russian girl replied, her violet eyes glowing with the smallest hint of pride when she didn't stutter.

Annette's lip curled. Without warning, her white hand flashed in the shadows, her skin colliding with Katerina's cheek with a sharp crack. Katerina whimpered and instinctively flinched away from the pain, only to have sharp nails dig into her chin as the other woman's hand latched onto her jaw.

"You dare to speak to me in that language?" she hissed. "You _communist_."

"I-I'm s-s-sorry," Katerina whispered. "I-I-"

Annette slapped her again, her eyes narrowing into slits as stars erupted in front of Katerina's eyes.

"You should be sorry," the Canadian hissed. "You, your brother, your _father_." She turned and spat onto the cold concrete floor, her expression twisted into one of disgust. "That _creature_ that tainted my country and created you... you _demons_."

Katerina shuddered, her lips parting in a quiet scream as the hand on her chin moved up to yank mercilessly at her wavy blonde hair, Annette's fingernails digging into her scalp until her golden hair was stained with red.

Annette smirked and drew closer, the blade of the knife rising until it rested against the Katerina's collarbone.

"We will have such fun together, _cheri_," she murmured. "Don't worry, little demon. I will not let anyone interrupt us this time."

**Dude, what is it with me and short updates? Alright, this chapter was absolute _murder_ to write, and I have a sinking feeling that the next few will be hard too... So, um, please don't kill me for the delay? /shot/ Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this one, and please tell me what you think! Thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed/favorited this story! You all rock!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Magnus was being held by his brother.

This wasn't the first time that something like this had happened- contrary to popular belief, Francisco was the elder twin, and his protective-older-brother instinct tended to surface quite easily most of the time.

Still, he couldn't remember a time when Francisco had held him so gently... Or when his twin's features had been so grim and stained with blood.

"Y-You need to lie down, _bruder_," Magnus managed to croak. "Your head..."

Francisco shrugged, his blue eyes tightening infinitesimally at the pain that was probably shuddering through his bruised body. The Italian twin hadn't told his brother why he had been thrown into the cell later than the others. He didn't need to.

Magnus could see the red marks on his brother's neck.

"...I want Cielo..." Achilles moaned from his corner of the room, his voice weaker than it had been the last time he spoke. "Saichi... Where is my sister?"

"We don't know, Achilles," Francisco murmured, his own voice strained by blood-loss and exhaustion.

"...Hurts..."

"I know."

Magnus tried to keep his body from shuddering, his lips cracking open in a tiny hiss as the failed effort sent further waves of pain through his body. He fled into his thoughts as Francisco's arms tightened around him, his eyes fluttering closed as an image of a blonde girl with kind lilac eyes appeared in his subconscious.

"_Bruder_," Magnus croaked. "Where are the girls?"

Francisco shook his head, his teeth digging into the skin of his lip. "...I-I'm sure that they're okay..."

"..._Bruder_... I miss Kat," Magnus admitted quietly.

"...I know...I miss Aly, _fratello_..."

"I know."

Achilles was silent again.

Hungary slipped silently through the dark New York City streets, her hands clenched tightly around a black frying pan and a pistol that she had borrowed from a certain angry Swiss.

Said-Swiss was currently perched on a rooftop above her, his sea-green eyes narrowed into the scope of his rifle as he searched the city below him for any sign of the missing teens. Austria stood quietly behind Switzerland, his violet eyes anxious beneath tangled locks of chocolate-brown hair.

"Well?" Hungary grumbled into her cellphone.

Several stories above her, Austria shrugged and whispered "Nothing. We'll be moving-"

"Wait," Switzerland snapped, his sharp voice cutting through the air like the bullets that he loved to shoot, his eyes widening an odd sort of triumph. "What the hell is that?"

"Gee, I don't know, let me look," Elizaveta hissed, the hours of sleeplessness combining with worry for the children of countries that she had practically raised to create a dull, weary sort of anger.

Vash and Roderich- wisely- ignored her quip. Austria dared to inch closer to the armed Swiss, his eyebrows raised expectantly as Switzerland turned to look at him.

"...There's someone else out here with us," Vash reported tersely.

"No shit," Hungary snarled. "Half of the world is out in this hell hole, and I'm sure the other half will be here by tomorrow."

"Will you fucking listen?" Switzerland yelled. "Whoever the hell this is, they're not a country."

Hungary froze, a new wave of dread sweeping over her, soaking into her skin like ice.

"...What?" she whispered.

"It's- I don't know who the hell they are, but... Shit, they look like that Prussian bastard."

_No..._ "Maybe Gil joined the search?"

"I just checked with Prussia," Austria reported flatly. "He said that he's still in the meeting room."

_No... Oh God, no..._

Her phone was ringing.

Elizaveta shuddered and raised the device to her ear, the blood draining from her face as she whispered a small greeting.

"Ksesesese~_ Szia, anya! Nem l__á__tsz engem?_" (**Hey, Mom! Did you see me?**)

_Andras..._*

Gilbert frowned when his phone rang for the second time in under ten minutes, his scarlet eyes flickering upwards in an apologetic glance as Germany, Spain, Russia- oh hell, _every_ country within five fucking feet shot him a venemous glare.

"It's Liz," he snapped, his lips curling into a defiant smirk that _dared_ any unawesome bastard to say anything about the woman that he half-loved and half-hated with a passion that he usually reserved for war and beer.

The others turned stiffly back to their original course, their feet smacking soundlessly against cracked concrete as they followed England and... whoever the hell he was muttering to.

"Liz?" Prussia hissed. "Did you-"

"Gil, there's something that you should probably know."

"Is it about the kids?"

"...Ah, no?"

Prussia frowned at the question in her statement and glanced down at the gun in his hand, his muscles tensing when another set of footsteps began to shadow his own in the group of silent countries. He saw Russia and Germany tense as well, their grips tightening around their own weapons as the footsteps drew closer.

"Liz, I need to let you go," Gilbert hissed. "Someone's tailing us."

"Gil, wait that's what I wanted to-"

Gilbert snapped the phone closed and shoved it into his pocket, the barrel of his gun rising immediately until it lined up with a teenager's messy silver hair.

The teen paused and cocked his head to the side, his dark red- almost brown, really- eyes narrowed above a cocky smirk.

"_Mi van, Papa_? **(What up, Pops**?)" he drawled lazily. "I heard you needed some awesome help."

"_Mein Gott_," Germany groaned, the first sign of true emotion that he had shown since the disappearance of his sons. "There are two of them..."

Prussia simply stared, his hands reaching automatically to retrieve the cellphone that was now ringing in his pocket.

"Liz," he croaked. "We're going to have a long talk when all of this shit is over."

Andras "Fritz" Hedervary-Beilschmidt smirked again, oblivious to the gun that was still pointed at his skull.

**Huh. Yeah, I didn't expect to introduce Fritz so soon but... Hey, it's Prussia's kid.**

**So, another short post... /hides in emo corner/ And, I'm sooo sorry for the delay... again. See, my family is hosting a Spanish exchange student, and I've been really busy showing him around so I hardly have any time to write. But, trust me, I will get these updates out as soon as I can! Just, um, please don't kill me in the meantime? /hopeful smile/**

**Also, quick note on Fritz: Andras is the Hungarian version of Andrew. King Andrew II of Hungary gave land to the Teutonic Knights in the 1200s (even if he later took it away, I kind of liked the connection between Prussia and Hungary). Of course, Andras likes to go by Fritz as a tribute to his awesome dad... Who kind of didn't know that he existed for most of his life... Since Prussia isn't a country anymore, Fritz is actually the representation of Budapest, which he believes to be the most awesome capital on the planet. And... That's all I have to say about him for right now~**

**So... Like it? Hate it? Wanna wring my neck or yell Pasta? Review and let me know!**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Alyson crept out of the room that had been her prison only moments ago, her arm wrapped in a supportive grip around Cielo's shoulders as her emerald eyes combed her surroundings for any signs of life. She paused when she caught of the two armed guards that were currently sleeping on the floor, her eyebrows raised in a silent question to the fairy that was hovering over her shoulder.

Tink shrugged and allowed herself a small smile. "They were French."

Alyson grinned despite herself and tightened her grip on Cielo as the duo limped past, her eyes narrowing as every step sent a flash of pain through her abused ankle, her lips twisting into a grimace with every hushed curse and moan that broke through Cielo's cracked lips. The Italian kept his head lowered as they made their way towards the staircase at the end of the hall, his amber eyes glancing warily between Alyson and their intended route.

"_Madre de Dio_ (**Mother of God**)," he whispered. "We're- we're back? They took us back?"

Alyson gave a stiff nod and helped the younger teen up the stairs, her bruised and aching jaw clenching as she forced herself not to think about the hellish years that she had passed inside this "orphanage", about the pain, about the loneliness, about the abuse...

"Aly?" Tink's bell-like voice brought Alyson back to reality with a sharp jolt. The fairy was hovering over the next flight of stairs, her tiny fingers tugging anxiously at strands of her bright green hair. "Over here. There's a window that you two can get out of nearby. Whoever is in charge hasn't blocked it yet."

"Where are the others?" Alyson demanded.

The fairy hesitated, her expression conflicted. "... Most of them are down the next hallway."

"Most of them?"

Tink hesitated again. "...Katerina... is in the attic. With another woman."

The blood drained from Alyson's features as her grip tightened around Cielo, earning her a worried glare from the Italian.

"What?" Cielo demanded.

"Annette has Kat," Alyson choked. The American teen turned back to Tink before she could see the expression on Cielo's face. "Tink, we need to get them out."

"There are more guards," the fairy whispered anxiously. "On every door. I can't knock out all of them- They have guns!"

"I'm not leaving them behind!" Alyson hissed.

"You'll get yourselves killed- England and the others are on their way, they should be here in a few minutes-"

A loud, furious shout rose up from the floor below them. Alyson swore and gently shoved Cielo towards the stairs that Tink had pointed out to them, her emerald eyes flashing towards Tink in a silent challenge.

"Cielo," Alyson murmured. "Go up the stairs and climb out of the first window that you see. Tink will make sure that you find the right one."

The Italian frowned and moved toward Alyson, his legs shaking with the effort of staying upright. "And you?"

"I'll get the others out and meet up with you later," she replied dismissively. "Try and find our parents, ok? Let them know what's going on."

"Let the fucking fairy tell them, I'm coming with you," Cielo snapped.

Alyson sighed and reached out to support the Italian once more, her legs already carrying her towards the hall that Tink had pointed out to her. She blinked in surprise when a familiar green glow flew over her shoulder, her emerald eyes meeting Tink's as the fairy pulled ahead of them.

"What-?" she began.

The fairy smiled hesitantly. "You need my help to get the doors open."

Alyson grinned and nodded, her jaw clenching once again when she caught sight of the armed men and women that were grouped at the end of the hallway. Two of the guards cried out when they saw the two teens and ran towards them, while the rest of the armed group shouldered their weapons and aimed.

Cielo yelped and pulled Alyson to the ground as the guards opened fire, his feet and fists lashing out instinctively at the two guards that tried to grab them. Alyson snarled and launched herself at the nearest guard, her knuckles slamming into the flesh of the woman's face with enough force to break bone. The woman stumbled and fell to the ground just as her partner was struck with a stray bullet, her limp fingers releasing the pistol that she had clutched in her hands. Cielo scrambled for the weapon and forced himself into a crouch, his amber eyes narrowing in concentration as he fired five times.

None of the shots missed their marks.

Alyson hauled herself to her feet and ran to the nearest door, trying not to think about the motionless bodies that brushed against her threadbare sneakers. She flashed Tink a shaky half-smile when the door opened, all traces of a smile disappearing from her features when she caught sight of the room's inhabitants.

"Oh God," she choked.

Marc Lucien Braginski-Williams didn't reply, didn't give any sign that he had heard his cousin at all. His indigo eyes remained blank and locked on the slack features of the woman that he cradled tenderly in his arms, the woman whose t-shirt was pasted onto her chest over a thick layer of dark red and crusty brown.

Neither Marc nor the woman moved as Alyson stumbled into the room and nearly collapsed beside them. Only after the American had reached out to press two shaking fingers against a point just underneath Saichi's jaw did Marc's eyes flicker to her face.

The woman didn't move.

She would never move again.

Alyson gasped and buried her face in Saichi's cropped black hair, her entire body shaking with sobs that she couldn't restrain. She closed her eyes tightly when Cielo's shocked and horrified gasp came from the doorway, her shaking fingertips still pressed against what should have been Saichi's pulse.

Marc continued to do nothing, his eyes still filled with that awful blankness, his arms still wrapped automatically around the corpse of the girl that he had loved.

Katerina gasped as the blade of the knife bit into her skin again, her violet eyes slipping closed before she could see the new edition to the collection of cuts that were carved into the skin of her arms. Her tormentor chuckled at the sound of the Russian girl's gasp and the knife went for more blood, earning it another reluctant noise of protest.

"W-why do you hate me?" Katerina whispered.

The knife paused. Annette was silent, her dark eyes studying the tearful Russian girl carefully.

"What did I ever do to you?" Katerina pressed, her voice gaining strength as the first hints of anger began to flash through her bright violet eyes. "What did I do to deserve this? _Why am I a monster to you_?"

"You shouldn't exist," Annette replied, her voice so quiet and deadly that it sent a bolt of icy fear through Katerina's nerves. "None of you should. It's not natural. You, your brother, your _friends_, _Dieu_ (**God**), even your _parents_. You shouldn't exist!"

"I-it's not like we chose to!" Katerina objected, only to realize her mistake as the Canadian woman glared down at her with merciless eyes.

Annette snarled and lashed out with the knife again, her lips twisting into a pleased smirked when the blade sliced through more layers of skin, when blood began to flow from the teen's cheek in a thick stream of scarlet.

"Don't interrupt me," she snarled. She paused for a moment to consider the girl before her, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as Katerina forced herself to return the woman's cold gaze with a defiant glare.

"Do you even understand what it's like?" Annette murmured. "To know that your country, your home, your _history_, is a boy, a mere child really... To know that every problem that you face, every war, every family member that was murdered or killed could have been because of this personification, this _Matthew Williams_. And then, to learn that this boy had the audacity to be happy, to feel like he had a right to fall in love, to have children, to go against the laws of God and nature and have a whole, loving family when you have _nothing_! Do you know how much I hate my country for that? Do you know how much I hate _him_ for making me this way?"

"He suffers too," Katerina hissed. "We all suffer. Why can't you understand that? Every war, every problem, every death, the countries feel them! They can't be killed permanently but they can be wounded, they can experience death, they can hate war just like any soldier or civilian. They try to take care of their citizens, they don't want to cause any problems. It's the governments, not-"

Annette lashed out again, her lips twisting as Katerina broke off with a gasp of pain.

"What did I tell you about interrupting me?" the Canadian woman snapped. She leaned forward until her face was only inches away from the other girl's, a satisfied smirk appearing on her features when Katerina flinched away. "You need to learn to do what you're told, _cherie_. Your parents should have taught you some manners..."

Annette raised the knife again, her delicate hands aiming the point towards Katerina's neck. The Russian girl flinched again and struggled to get to her feet, her muscles trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline. Annette merely smirked and slashed the knife across Katerina's throat, only to gape in shock when the blade missed its mark and cut into her victim's collarbone instead.

Katerina glared at the woman, a low snarl breaking through her lips as years of anger and hatred flashed through her eyes. She lunged at Annette without a word, sending the two of them to the ground in a tangle of struggling limbs. Katerina's fists slammed frantically into the other woman's face, her thin fingers uncurling for the briefest of moments to pry the knife out of Annette's shaking hands and lift the blade over her chest. Without thinking, Katerina drove the knife through the woman's chest, her lips twisting into a small, triumphant smile before she realized what she had done.

Annette laughed shakily as the Russian girl stumbled away, her small hands red with blood, her violet eyes wide with shock and the beginnings of self-loathing.

"You... murderer..." Annette gasped. "J-just like... your parents... They'll be... so proud..."

_My parents..._ Katerina repeated dazedly. _Мне жаль __(__**I'm sorry**__)... D-don't hate me, maman..._

"...You are a monster," Annette whispered smugly, her next words drowned in a loud, terrible gurgle that sent thin streams of blood pouring from her parted lips.

Katerina watched in horrified fascination as the woman's muscles began to tremble and her eyes rolled back into her head, her breath catching as Annette finally stopped breathing.

_I am a murderer_... The Russian thought sadly, her vision darkening before she, too, collapsed onto the floor, her violet eyes locking on the blood that continued to drip from her wrists and neck before everything went black.

**Yay! I finally got this up! /victory dance/ So, I'm really sorry (again) for the awful updating schedule... I swear I'll get a new chapter up as soon as I can (and start the Spamano spin-off of my pirate fic). Just be patient, please? I'm in Spain right now (and will stay here until August 25th, just in case you were wondering), so I won't have as much time as usual but I will still try and write as often as I can, okay? Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/read/been patient. You guys are amazing!**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Germany frowned when England motioned for the group to halt, his hard blue eyes combing the dark alleyway that surrounded them as Italy clutched desperately at his free hand.

"Where are they?" he demanded, not even trying to question the Englishman's methods of searching anymore. If it meant finding his sons again, he didn't care who lead them.

England hesitated and cocked his head to the side as if he was listening to someone, his thick eyebrows furrowing in a brief gesture of anxiety and frustration. After a moment, he pointed to the building on their right, his eyes narrowing when he saw the boards that blocked every window... all but one.

"Ivan," the Brit murmured. "Alfred. Antonio, Gilbert, and... whatever the hell this boy's name is. Would you like to get rid of these obstacles?"

The nations- and Gilbert's still-smirking son- nodded and moved forward as one, their hands curling into fists or- in Russia and Spain's case- clutching the handles of a lead pipe and a battle ax.

Germany watched for a few moments as the small group smashed what remained of the blocked windows to pieces, his eyes flickering away just as Britain cocked his head to the side again. Ludwig felt his blood run cold as Arthur's features went deathly pale, his heart stopping the same moment that an expression of horror and devastation spread across the Englishman's face.

For perhaps the first time in years, Germany found himself praying.

_Bitte Gott..._ (**Please God**)

Cielo's hands shook as he slowly pushed open the door, his mind still filled with images that he knew would haunt him until he died. He had known that something was wrong when he was dragged past, but... To see Saichi's corpse, to see the dead look in Marc's eyes...

The Italian shuddered and forced himself to step into the dark, windowless room that held the remainder of his odd family, his amber eyes locking immediately on the three teens that were huddled at the back of the room, their faces and hair stained with streaks of scarlet that made Cielo's stomach churn, their skin pale and their eyes dull with exhaustion and fear.

"C-Cielo?" Francisco gasped, his bright blue eyes blinking furiously in the sudden light. "_Mio Dio_ (**My God**), is it really you, _cugino_ (**cousin**)?"

The younger Italian could only nod numbly, his gaze roaming cautiously over the pale, slack, and exhausted faces of his cousins before it traveled slowly, almost fearfully, to the Greek boy that was slumped against the wall. Achilles stared back at him, his usually-warm brown eyes nearly empty except for a small spark of relief.

"...εσείς (**You**)," he whispered.

"..._Si_," Cielo choked. Without another word, Sicily flung himself across the room, his thin, shaking arms wrapping tightly around the injured Greek, his eyes squeezing shut as if he could block out the images that would give such harm to this boy in his arms. "Achilles..."

Achilles blinked slowly, his arms rising to weakly return Cielo's embrace. "...I feel better now."

A sob caught in Cielo's throat and he shook his head, his lips pressing for the briefest of moments to Achilles's forehead before a loud crash from below made him flinch away from the embrace, his eyes widening in shock and dismay as the crash was echoed by furious, frightened yells from above, as heavy footsteps began to come closer...

Alyson's frightened, tear-stained face appeared in the doorway, her eyes brightening for the tiniest second in bitter relief when she met Francisco's questioning, happy gaze.

"Cielo, you need to find a way out now," she hissed. "Use the window. I need to go find Kat."

"Kat?" Magnus mumbled, his brow furrowing as he forced himself into a sitting position. "Where is she?"

Alyson flinched and shook her head, her bright green eyes flickering over her shoulder at the sound of another crash, another shout from above...

"Just get out," she pressed. "...Please."

And then she was gone.

Cielo swore quietly and slowly got to his feet, his arms still wrapped in silent, weak support to the half-conscious Greek by his side. He motioned for the twins to stumble out of the room before him, his eyes dropping as he exited the prison to find Marc waiting for them in the hallway, Saichi cradled in his arms.

"_Non guardare_ (**Don't look**), Achilles," he whispered. "..._Per favore._"

He glanced at the Greek to make sure that the other boy had listened to him, his heart sinking when he saw that Achilles's eyes were closed, that his face was slack and his grip was weakening as he slipped into unconsciousness.

"Ach-" the Italian began, his voice dying in his throat when he heard another gunshot.

Cielo whirled around in the direction of the shot, his mouth falling open in horror as Marc fell to the ground in front of him, a new rosette of blood spreading across his stained, filthy clothes. The Canadian boy met Cielo's horrified amber gaze with calm violets for a brief moment before they focused on the corpse of the Japanese girl that he had allowed to fall to the ground several feet away.

"..._Permettez-moi être enterré à côté d'elle_ (**Let me be buried beside her**)," he whispered. "And... tell Katenka that I'm sorry... Please."

Cielo cried out and fell to his knees, his thin frame shuddering as Achilles's limp body collapsed onto his shoulder. He glanced up with wide eyes as more guards began to pour into the hall, his catlike yellow eyes seeking Francisco and Magnus. He found no sign of the twins and allowed a small sigh of relief to break through his lips before he stiffened, his muscles preparing for the shot that would end his life.

Another gun shot roared through the hall like a herald from hell.

Except, this time, it wasn't aimed at Cielo.

"Marc!"

"Saichi! A-Achilles!"

"Cielo! _Rispondimi, dannazione!_ (**Answer me, dammit!**)"

Cielo shuddered, his eyes raising from the dead man that had been trying to kill him just as his mother's arms wrapped around him and pulled him close, his grip loosening on Achilles's unconscious body as the Greek was lifted into his father's arms.

Sicily was engulfed by both of his parents in a matter of seconds, but he could still see.

He could see the tears that ran freely down Japan's cheeks as the Asian knelt beside his daughter's corpse, his katana lying abandoned by his side.

He could see Greece hold Achilles gently in his arms as France ran a practiced hand over the large gash in the teen's skull and murmured condolences mixed with encourgagement.

He could see Russia turn away from his dead son, his lead pipe falling from his limp fingers to hit the floor with a low thud.

He could see Canada sob and call out for Marc in hysterical French as America rushed to his side.

He could see England, Germany, Italy, and Prussia search the room for the rest of the kids.

He could see a teen with Prussia's bright silver hair frown and dart through an open door when no one was looking.

He could see the tears in Romano's eyes, could see Spain's lips move in an impossible mixture of thanks and cries of sorrow.

He could see blood...

Cielo shuddered and buried his face into Romano's shirt, a low moan breaking through his lips when he realized that the images of his dead friends were still printed behind his closed eyelids.

_Per favore... Make it go away..._

**So... this one is pretty short... But I promise, there is a reason for it! The next few are going to be a lot longer...**

**Anyways, I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can, mkay? And thanks to all of the people who have reviewed/read this story so far!**

**(PS: I know, I'm being cruel... Please don't kill me!)**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Alyson ran down the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest, her muscles screaming in protest as she increased her speed, her thoughts focused solely on the image of a girl with pale blonde hair and terrified violet eyes.

The American grunted when another set of stairs came into view, her eyes narrowing beneath her tangled hair as Tink gestured for her to follow. She bit back a whine and made to hurry after the fairy, her foot raised to step on the first step...

_Crack_.

Alyson gasped and tumbled to the ground, her hand clutching automatically at the pain that was now searing through her left thigh, her green eyes widening as they went from the blood running down her filthy jeans to the woman that had come up behind her, her eyes as cold as the metal of the rifle in her hands as she aimed the weapon at the wounded girl for a final shot.

New York City whimpered and closed her eyes, not wanting to see the bullet that would end her life...

"NO!"

The thud of a body slamming into the ground, the sound of metal scraping against its sheath and a muffled hiss of pain, another furious yell, the snap of breaking bones. Alyson wrenched her eyes open at the last sound, her eyes widening when she saw her attacker curled in a limp ball on the ground with a bloody knife by her side.

Magnus and Francisco crouched over the woman, their faces drawn and streaked with more blood than before, their expressions a mixture of anger and sorrow that Alyson had started to become familiar with.

"W-what the hell?" Alyson gasped.

The twins glanced up immediately at the sound of her voice, their lips curving into tiny, identical smiles of relief.

"Hey," Francisco called weakly. "Ve... I hope you don't mind, but we decided to help you find Kat."

Alyson frowned and slowly forced herself to stand, her eyes widening in alarm when she caught sight of the scarlet stain that was slowly spreading across the bottom half of Francisco's t-shirt. The Italian grimaced and flashed her a reassuring smile, his hands wrapping carefully around the wound.

"Ve," he murmured. "I'll be okay..."

Magnus frowned and glanced over at Alyson, his expression conflicted.

"Where's Kat?" he demanded.

Alyson glanced back at the stairs that she had attempted to climb moments before, her eyes zeroing in on the anxious fairy that was still hovering at the top of the staircase.

"Up there," she told him. "Tink's been leading me, she-" The American hesitated, her emerald eyes darkening behind her cracked glasses as she met Berlin's anxious gaze.

"What?" Magnus pressed, his blue eyes flickering back to his wounded brother as Francisco barely bit back a moan.

"Tink says that... that Katerina is with Annette."

Magnus swore and nearly ran towards the stairs, only to slow to a stop as he glanced back at his twin. Francisco frowned and motioned weakly for his brother to keep going, his identical blue eyes tightening as his auburn curl seemed to droop.

"_Andare_ (**Go**)," Milan whispered. "I'll be fine."

It was a lie, they all knew it.

Magnus held his brother's gaze for a moment longer, his expression twisting before he turned away.

"_Warte auf mich_ (**Wait for me**)," he called quietly over his shoulder.

Alyson gritted her teeth and made to go after the German, only to freeze when she met Francisco's kind blue eyes.

"...I don't want to leave you," she told him.

Milan sighed and wordlessly held out one of his hands, his expression softening when New York City took it without hesitation and sat heavily by his side.

"Aly," Francisco murmured. "Can you promise me something?"

"Yes," she replied immediately, causing the Italian to smile.

"...You don't even know what I'm going to ask," he pointed out wryly.

"Doesn't matter," the American scoffed quietly. "I'll do it."

Francisco chuckled quietly and tightened his grip on Alyson's hand, his eyes narrowing as if he was struggling to focus. The Italian took a deep breath and gritted his teeth.

"Promise me... that this won't happen again," he gasped. "P-please... promise me that we won't have to suffer like this again."

Alyson frowned slightly and reached out to steady the Italian as he slumped onto his side.

"What do you mean?" she whispered. "How can I... I don't know if I can-"

"_Per favore_," Francisco murmured, his eyelids fluttering before finally slipping closed. "...Make the pain stop."

"N-No, wait! Don't close your eyes, dammit! You're not supposed to!" Alyson gasped. "Cisco, I-"

A strangled yell came from above, immediately sending the American to her feet. Alyson hesitated before tugging Francisco's limp body across her shoulders, her injured leg burning as she forced herself up the stairs towards the cry. She limped hastily over the last steps, her eyes zeroing in on the only door on the floor. She made to step towards the door, only to be pushed gently to the side by a silver blur. A teen with reddish-brown eyes shot her a sympathetic glance before darting into the doorway, his slim frame stiffening as soon as he entered the room. Alyson heard another cry echo from the room and forced herself to move forward once again. She paused for a moment to lower Francisco to the ground outside of the room, her fingers brushing against his bloodied auburn locks. She clutched the half-open door and stumbled into the room beside the silver-haired teen, her breath catching in her throat when she saw Magnus in the corner of the room, his arms wrapped around a barely-conscious Katerina.

The German didn't seem to be aware of his audience. His gaze was focused solely on the Russian in his arms, his lips forming quiet pleas and encouragements to the girl who simply gazed up at him with sad violet eyes.

Alyson choked on a sob and turned away from the sight of Katerina's bruised face and blood-soaked hands, her tear-filled eyes locking once again on Francisco's unconscious body.

_Please... make the pain stop..._

"I-I don't know how to make it stop," she whispered. "I'm sorry... I want to make it stop..."

She stiffened as an unfamiliar hand clasped her shoulder, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the silver-haired teen's challenging gaze.

"You want to make it stop?"

Alyson nodded, noticing for the first time that Tink had come to hover over the other teen's shoulder. The fairy met Alyson's gaze with tears streaming down her cheeks, her tiny chin rising as she took a deep, steadying breath.

"I know how," the fairy insisted quietly. "I know how to make it stop."

"Show me," Alyson whispered. "Tell me."

"...Magic."

**Hmm... Not sure I liked the ending there. Eh, oh well. So, I really shouldn't have written this tonight (It's close to midnight and I have to be up at 6 a.m.), but I felt bad about leaving you guys with such an awful cliffy last time, so I decided to help you out! ...by writing another cliffy... /ahem/.**

**Anyways~ thanks again to everyone who has reviewed/read/favorited/followed this story. You guys are amazing and make me happy-smile. Also, to everyone who thinks that I'm being incredibly cruel right now... Well, I am, but it's all part of the plan! :p**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 19

"You know, I really don't think you should be carrying anything right now," Fritz pointed out casually.

"I'm not carrying her," Magnus shot back flatly.

It was true. Katerina was technically walking on her own, her thin, shaking arm wrapped securely around Magnus's shoulders, her small waist encircled by one of Magnus's arms. The Russian girl struggled to keep up with Magnus, her violet eyes still wide and frighteningly-blank. Magnus bit his lip and shot the silent girl a worried glance before he turned back to the Hungarian boy, his blue eyes zeroing in on the limp Italian that was cradled gently in Fritz's arms.

"...How is he?" Berlin asked quietly.

Fritz fell silent, his eyes darkening as they followed Magnus's gaze.

"...Resting," he lied.

Magnus took a deep breath and turned away, his grip tightening around Katerina. The Russian girl stared up at him, her lips trembling as a thin film of tears fell across her eyes.

"Прости **(I'm sorry**)," she whispered. "I d-didn't m-m-mean t-too..."

"No," Magnus croaked gently. He allowed his arm to fall from Katerina's waist for a brief moment, his newly-freed fingers brushing tenderly across her bruised and bloody cheek. "Don't be sorry, _liebling_ (**sweetheart**). Don't be sorry, it's not your fault..."

"Прости," Katerina repeated shakily, as if she hadn't heard him. "I-I'm s-s-so sorry..."

Magnus drew in a shuddering gasp and pulled the girl into his arms, his face disappearing into her blood-soaked blonde hair moments before his shoulders began to shake. Katerina shuddered at his touch, a small, broken sob breaking through her own lips as tears began to stream down her cheeks.

Fritz shuddered and forced himself to keep moving forward, to focus on putting one foot in front of the other as he made his way back to where he had left the adults. His grip tightened automatically on Francisco, even though he already knew that it was pointless. His cousin was beyond noticing any small gestures of kindness now. Fritz doubted that the Italian would ever feel anything again.

"Ludwig! I've found them!"

Fritz froze at the sound of Italy's voice, his snowy skin paling to a sickly ivory as the Italian's auburn head turned the corner, his amber eyes wide and bright with an absurd hope. Feliciano's smile faded when he focused on the slim body in Fritz's arms, his knees buckling beneath him just as Germany, America, Russia, and England rounded the corner.

Fritz was still and silent as the countries stared at him, his muscles tensing when Germany drew closer.

"Is he-" Ludwig's voice cracked and he clenched his fists at his sides.

"_A szíve megállt_ (**His heart has stopped**)," Fritz murmured.

Italy sobbed out loud, causing those around him to flinch. Germany ducked his head for a moment, his broad hand pressing weakly against his eyes as a single tear ran across his jaw.

"...Where is Magnus?" he whispered brokenly. "Do I- do we still have him?"

"He's upstairs," Fritz murmured. "With Katerina."

"Is she alive?" Russia growled, his violet eyes wet and vulnerable despite his fierce tone.

"Yes."

Ivan nodded and brushed past Fritz, his shoulders slumping with a desperate sort of relief. After a moment, Italy followed, his red-rimmed eyes flickering pleadingly over his shoulder when Germany failed to follow as well. Ludwig shook his head and moved forward to take his son from Fritz's arms. The German stared down at Francisco for a long moment before he closed his eyes and slowly slipped to the floor, his eldest son still cradled gently in his arms.

"_Verzeih mir, mein Sohn_ (**Forgive me, my son**)," he whispered.

Fritz shuddered and turned away just as his father's silver head appeared in the hall, his eyes widening in slight alarm when he realized that America and England were watching him with narrowed eyes.

"Where is she?" England demanded quietly, his calm facade cracking to reveal the desperation in his eyes.

"Who?" the Hungarian asked carefully.

America snarled and took a step towards the teen, only to pause when Prussia shot him a warning glare.

"You know who," he hissed. "Where the hell is my daughter?"

Fritz shook his head, remembering the frightened determination in Alyson's emerald as she begged him not to let her parents find her, pleaded with him to give her some time, to give her a chance to fix everything.

_"Please... I need to keep my promise."_

"She's missing," the Hungarian murmured. "I couldn't find her... I'm sorry."

Budapest turned away from their devastated expressions, trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing.

Russia hesitated when he caught sight of his daughter, his heart throbbing painfully in his chest when he caught a glimpse of the blood in her hair. He watched for a moment as she cried into Magnus's trembling shoulders, a shudder running through his body as he realized that he recognized the sound, recognized the broken cries and frightened moans that were torn from Katerina'ss lips.

_Matvey... Forgive me... She is like me..._

"Katenka," he called quietly, his chest tightening when the girl stiffened at the sound of his voice.

Katerina turned slowly to look at her father, her violet eyes wide and blank and frightened... haunted by images that no one else could possibly imagine.

"I-I d-didn't mean it," Moscow whimpered. "I-I'm sorry... I didn't m-m-mean it."

"Я знаю (**I know**)," Ivan sighed. Russia moved forward without another word and pulled the teen into his arms. Cold, merciless fear stabbed through him when she failed to react, her bright purple eyes- so like his own- staring uncertainly into his from beneath Canada's wavy blonde hair. "Believe me, мой ангел (**my angel**), I know."

"I'm not an angel," Katerina whispered. "I-I'm a monster... s-she s-said so."

"Мы все монстры (**We are all monsters**)."

Alyson finished drawing the pentagram with shaking hands, her eyes flickering up to meet Tink's anxious gaze as she made her way to the center.

"You'll tell me what to say, right?" she muttered. "'Cause I have no idea what I'm doing here."

"I will," the fairy promised, her wings trembling anxiously. Tink fluttered towards the American, her bright green eyes taking in Alyson's posture with a critical eye.

After a few moment, Tink nodded.

"Okay," the fairy murmured. "This can work..."

"Hey, Tink?"

"Hm?"

"Did my... Did Mum know about this spell?" Alyson whispered.

The fairy stopped.

"He did, didn't he?" New York City guessed. "He didn't use it."

"None of us would let him," Tink murmured.

"Why?" Alyson pressed.

The fairy hesitated for a moment, her tiny lips trembling with something that wasn't quite fear.

"It's a dangerous spell," Tink admitted. "Even if the spellcaster is at full power, something could go wrong. The past isn't meant to be changed..."

"But... I'm not at full power, am I?" the American asked. "So, what-"

"You will die," Tink told her bluntly. "But you can change this future, as long as you do things right."

"I'm... going to die," Alyson repeated slowly. "I-I don't-"

"It won't be permanent," Tink insisted. "You'll change everything, you'll come back, everything will be okay, it won't be like this-"

"How can you be so sure?" Alyson screamed, interrupting the fairy mid-rant.

Tink frowned and fell slightly until she was staring into the teen's eyes, her jaw clenched in determination.

"Because you're England and America's daughter," she hissed. "...I'll be waiting for you."

"...Cisco?" Alyson whispered.

"He'll be waiting for you, too."

The American nodded and closed her eyes, her lips falling open just as Tink began to whisper the spell into her ear.

"Dumbledora the explorer..."

**Yeah, I know, I'm cruel. /shot/. So... I'm really sorry for the delay here. I had honestly planned on writing this sooner, but it took a little while to get into the swing of things at school, soo... Yeah. Also, my work schedule should be filling up soon, so that might mean more delays but I promise that I'll try and update one of my stories at least once a week, okay? Just... stay patient with me?**

**Also, I don't know if any of you remember, but earlier in this story I asked for you all to pray for my speech coach's wife who had been diagnosed with cancer. Unfortunately, she died two weeks ago tomorrow. I want to thank everyone who prayed/thought for her, and I would really appreciate it if you would do it again for her family. Thank you again and... I'm not going to ask for anything else. Review if you want, but it's up to you.**

**I hope everyone is having a great school year so far. :)**


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 20

_Fourteen years earlier_

Lukas Bondevik's eye was twitching.

"So then he turns to me and is like '_Hvad fanden glor du på, kælling_? (**What the hell are you looking at, bitch?**)' and I'm thinking 'Oh _no_ he didn't!' and Gil was going 'Oh _yes_ he did!'. And, of course, I had my ax with so all I had to do was show him what a little beauty I had up my sleeve- only not _literally_ because, you know, my ax doesn't fit up a sleeve unless it's Odin's sleeve or something- Shit! Norge, could you imagine how big _Odin_'s sleeve would be? _Min Gud_ (**My God**), he'd be able to hide an entire _army_ in one of those sleeves, you know? But anyways-"

_Gud, will this idiot ever shut up?_ Norway thought scathingly, his pale features nearly unreadable to anyone who wasn't his dear brother... or possibly Denmark.

Although, with the way the damn Dane was going on, one would think that he didn't understand the quiet Norwegian at all- that the two Nordics hadn't spent the better part of a millennium living under the same roof, let alone the same geographic area.

"Norge, Norge, this is the good part! See, this guy was still insisting that-"

Denmark broke off with a yelp as Norway's fist slammed into the side of his head, his bright blue eyes widening in surprise and pain.

"Shut up, Matthias," Lukas sighed.

Finland cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his seat a few inches away, causing the Swede beside him to glare at Denmark.

"St'p sc'ring m' w'fe," he muttered.

"Norge-" Matthias whined.

Norway rolled his eyes and pushed away from the meeting table before the Dane could finish his sentence, his indigo eyes meeting Iceland's for a brief moment as he got to his feet.

"_Bror kj__æ__re_ (**Brother dear**)-" he began.

"No," Emil snapped.

Lukas smiled slightly and made his way out of the meeting room, studiously ignoring the small twinge of unease that went through his gut when he remembered the reason why all of them were waiting, why Denmark had gotten bored enough to tell that damn story in the first place...

Germany, Italy, Japan, Greece, Romano, Spain, America, England, Russia, and... that other country were late. They were dropping off their kids.

_Those kids..._

Unlike most of the nations, Norway wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the newest additions to the world. Something bothered him about their presence, something other than Denmark's unsubtle hints about 'how awesome it would be if _they_ had two or three mini-vikings'...

_Gud..._

It wasn't that he _disliked_ the children; even the cold Norwegian found it difficult to dislike beings that were barely old enough to speak. If he was being totally honest with himself, Lukas had actually liked England's little girl when the nation brought her along to their monthly discussion about magic.

_Such a sweet girl... looks like she inherited Arthur's sight, too, so that's always-_

"P-please, can anyone hear me? M-Mum? Dad?"

Norway froze, wondering if he was starting to hear things. Dammit, maybe Denmark actually was driving him insane...

"Please! Please, c-can someone see me? I need to find my Mum... I-I just want to see my mum and dad..."

Lukas frowned and turned around, his cold blue eyes searching the dimmed halls outside of the meeting room for the source of the voice. His eyes widened when he caught sight of a teenage girl leaning heavily against the wall a few feet away, her long golden hair tangled and matted with the same blood that stained her jeans. A pair of cracked glasses slipped towards the edge of her nose, only to be pushed back into place by shaking fingers as tear-filled emerald eyes locked onto the Norwegian. The girl hesitated for a moment, a small shudder going through her battered body.

"Hello?" she whispered weakly.

"Who are you?" Norway demanded, not really in the mood for manners at the moment.

Two tears ran down the girl's pale cheeks, her lips curving upwards into a tiny relieved smile. "Y-You can see me?"

"_Ja_ (**Yes**)," Lukas replied slowly. "Who are you?"

"Alyson," the girl replied automatically. "My name's Alyson."

_England's daughter? No, that isn't... the girl is barely a year old!_

"What are you doing here?" Norway demanded, his voice softening slightly when another tear slipped down the girl's cheek in time with the blood that dripped through her hair.

"My- my mum," she whispered. "Or my dad, I guess, if he can see me... Please, are America and England here?"

"Engl- you _are_ his daughter?" Lukas whispered. "But... How?"

"I- It's a spell, I'm not really here, I guess, but I don't have much time. Where are they?"

"They're dropping you off right now at Germany's house," Norway answered automatically.

Alyson's features twisted and she turned away, her hands clenching weakly into fists at her sides. "T-That's where it happens..."

"Where what happens?" Lukas demanded sharply, his gut clenching again with the unease that had been plaguing him for hours.

"They're going to take us away," Alyson whimpered. "They- I d-don't know who they are, e-exactly, bu-but they're going to t-take us all away and w-we'll be stuck in-in an orphanage and she'll burn us a-and hurt us so... so badly..." The American teen's voice hitched, her body shuddering again with what Norway recognized as sobs. "I-I need to t-tell them...Please, please, they have to know or I won't keep my p-promise to Cisco... _I need to keep my promise!_"

"_Roe ned_ (**Calm down**)!" Lukas whispered, his pale hands reaching out automatically to draw the shivering girl into his arms. He stiffened when Alyson fell limply into his grip, her tear-stained face pressing into his jacket as she sobbed. "Calm down _kjæreste_ (**sweetheart**), it'll be alright."

"H-he's dead," Alyson choked.

Norway's blood ran cold. "Who is?"

"C-Cisco... And Saichi a-and Marc... Oh God, Kat... sh-she'll be alone n-now... I won't be there to help her, and Marc, Marc won't..."

"Of course you'll be there," Norway whispered soothingly. "Everything... Everything will work out..."

"N-No, I won't be there... I'm not going back," Alyson argued weakly. "T-Tink told me... she told me that the spell was going to kill me... a-and she's right, I can feel it... I-I'm dying, but... if I could... if I can keep my promise and f-fix things..." The girl's eyelids were starting to droop now, her pale features going slack in the first throes of an eternal sleep. She offered the Norwegian a small, sad smile. "I guess... I guess I didn't fix things... 'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry," Lukas whispered. "It's not your fault." _Why am I so upset by this? Why is this affecting me so much?_

Alyson's smile softened and she reached up to gently pat his cheek.

"T-Thanks..." she whispered. "Can you... tell my mum and dad... not to be... not to be sad... because it's okay."

"I will," the Norwegian promised solemnly. "I promise."

The girl hummed and fell back into his arms, a last sigh breaking through her frozen lips.

"Thanks..."

Norway shuddered and gently lowered the broken girl onto the ground, his pale, bloodstained fingers going immediately to the phone in his pocket.

Arthur answered on the first ring.

"Lukas?" he said exasperatedly, struggling to be heard over a loud laugh that could only come from America. "I'm sorry, I know we're late, but-"

"Are the kids with you?" Norway snapped.

"I- what?" England gasped, slightly perturbed by the raw emotion in the Nordic's voice.

"The children," Norway insisted. "Alyson, Kat, Marc, all of them... are they with you?"

"We just dropped them off-"

"Turn around!" Lukas shouted.

America's laughter stopped abruptly and was replaced by a hushed question, wondering what was going on. Norway didn't really give a damn.

"Turn around, _now_," he hissed. "Please. Please, you'll regret it if you don't."

"I- Alfred, for God's sake, stop asking questions and turn the damn car around! Lukas, what's going on?"

"The spell," Lukas snapped. "Your daughter, she used the spell."

"What spe- Alyson can't use spells, she's only a-"

"It was her! From the future... Arthur, she told me that she's going to be taken tonight. All of the children are. Something bad will happen to them."

"What? Matthew, please let Ludwig know what we're doing. Yes, tell him we need to turn around. Lukas, what-"

"She's dead, Arthur," Lukas whispered. "She just... she just died. I-in my arms..."

The other end of the phone went silent for a long moment except for the distant rumble of a car.

"She... A-Aly?" America's voice croaked dimly. "My- my kid? She's- she can't be- What kind of magic shit is this?!"

"Shut up, Alfred," Arthur hissed. "Lukas, did she... did she tell you anything b-before she..."

"Marc, Saichi, and Francisco are dead as well," Lukas told him bluntly. "She told me..."

A sharp intake of breath, this one from farther away. "M-Marc?"

"America," Russia's voice sliced through the conversation with an icy intensity. "If you do not speed up this car, I will personally make your life a living hell until the day that I stop breathing."

"Save it for whoever wants to kill our kids, Commie," Alfred snarled. "Hey, Norway, you wanna send some extra countries along for back up? I've got Germany behind us with the Italies, Spain, Japan, and Greece, but I could use a perimeter in case whoever the hell is behind this gets away."

"We'll be there," Lukas replied immediately. "...Make sure you get them."

"We will," England murmured with absolute certainty.

Norway nodded and ended the call, his eyes slipping closed when he realized that Alyson's body had disappeared, leaving only the faintest trace of blood and death in the air around him.

"Lukas?"

Norway turned around at the sound of Denmark's voice, the tears that he had been struggling to hold at bay racing down his pale cheeks.

"Matthias," he murmured. "Get Berwald, Tino, Emil, and any other country that can be ready for a fight in the next five seconds. Tell the Asians and Russia's sisters that their nieces and nephews are being threatened."

The Dane nodded, his eyes lingering with obvious worry on the tears that lingered on Lukas's cheeks like diamonds.

"Oh, and Matthias?" Norway added quietly as the other Nordic began to turn away.

"...Yeah?"

"...Bring your ax. We'll need it."

Gretchen stared at the framed photograph on the wall of the house, her hands trembling as they cradled the unconscious child in her arms. She stiffened when someone approached her from behind, her eyes flickering over her shoulder as Jeanne came up behind her with two slumbering infants in her arms.

"Henry and Randal have the other four," Jeanne reported flatly.

"How- how old are those children?" Gretchen whispered.

"Not even a year," the other woman told her, her eyes devoid of emotion.

Gretchen shuddered again and began to make her way towards the door, her eyes focusing on the four cars that were parked haphazardly in the-

They had only brought two cars.

"Unhand my son. Now."

Gretchen's eyes widened as they focused on the hulking German that had appeared in front of her, a duo of furious auburn-haired men behind him. As she watched, a dark-haired man wielding an ax sped past her, followed closely by a furious Canadian. Gretchen heard Jeanne hiss moments before she surrendered the infants. Another blond appeared beside the German, his flashing emerald eyes matching the green hue that surrounded his thin hands.

"My daughter, if you please," he whispered coldly. "Or I will personally cut out your heart and feed it to the vilest creatures that I can find."

Gretchen handed the children over without hesitation, her eyes filling with tears when she saw the anger and worry in the adult's eyes...

"H-Henry and R-Randal will have gone out the back door," she whispered. "They want to drown them... the children. I'm so sorry, I- I'm so sorry."

"Where's my brother?" the German man asked shortly.

**Phew... Man, I am soooo glad I finally got this down, it's been bothering me for weeks...**

**Okay, I'm really sorry about the huge delay here. I've been studying for the SATs for the past week, and I'm actually really stressed right now because of college searches and honestly half of the past month has been completely awful. But, I promise that I will get this done soon- there should only be one more chapter left, I believe. And... I do need to ask you all for your opinions here on my next story idea:**

** Option 1, a little more time with these lovely kids (including a few more who will be introduced later on...) that deals with their relationships with their families and their significant others.**

** Option 2, an AU fic set in high school dealing with a new trio that a friend of mine came up with- the Tsundere trio made up of Norway, England, and Romano and their unwilling interest in three extremely popular, extremely idiotic, classmates...**

**So, what would ya'll like to see first? Lemme know, please, and please don't hesitate to review... I could really use some happy-smiles right now. :)**


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Randal ducked out the back of the house with a hushed curse, his arms tightening around the squirming toddlers in his arms. The auburn-haired boy glared up at him with sullen blue eyes, his round face twisting with pain when Randal simply tightened his grip. The other child, a blonde with flashing violet eyes, wriggled uncomfortably and attempted to hit the man with chubby fists.

"Dammit!" Randal hissed. "Stay still you damned brat or I swear I'll split your skull before we even get to the riv-"

"You will stop speaking to my son like that right now, da~?"

Randal stiffened at the sound of the voice and slowly turned around, only to nearly be blinded by the thick purple aura that surrounded the towering Russian in front of him like a second skin. Another figure appeared out of the purple smoke, his bright blue eyes glowing fiercely beneath worn glasses.

"Put down the kids now, asshole," America whispered coolly. "And we might just kill you quickly."

"And if I don't?" the other man snapped.

"Then we will kill you slowly and wait until your screams are all that remains of the pathetic human being that you used to be," Russia replied simply, his violet aura thickening the longer Randal continued to clutch his eldest child. "Let go of my son. Now."

"Make m-"

"_You will let go of Big Brother's child now before I stab you~_"

Randal's already-wide eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he felt the tip of a knife cut through the fabric of his thick black shirt. He turned slowly to look over his shoulder, his lips falling open into a large "O" when two blonde women returned his gaze with murderous intensity, their delicate hands clasped tightly around twin daggers and a large pitchfork respectively.

Ukraine shot the man a sweet smile and reached out to pat her younger sister on the shoulder.

"You should really let go of my dear nephew now, дорогою (**dear**)," she crooned. "Your little friend didn't listen to us and... Well, Yao and Yong Soo don't exactly have much patience for threats. Do you want to test ours?"

Randal frowned and reluctantly handed over the two boys to the woman with the pitchfork, his eyes narrowing furiously when the struggling blond settled down and flashed the... generously-endowed woman a small smile.

"_Salut tante_ (**Hi, Aunt**)," he greeted quietly.

Ukraine smiled softly at the boy and nuzzled her cheek against his soft hair. "Здрастуй дорогий (**Hello, sweetheart**). I'm so sorry we took so long."

"Katyusha," Russia called sweetly. "Please move the children out of the way."

Ukraine nodded and flashed Randal a wicked smile as she backed away with Belarus at her side. Randal gulped and slowly turned to face the two furious male countries, his eyes focusing on the image of a limp body lying on the ground several feet away.

_This isn't over_, he thought scathingly as the lead pipe came towards him.

The world exploded in bright flares of pain interspersed with hissed curses in Russian mixed with English. For one brief moment, the beaten man caught a glimpse of four bloodied teenagers standing over him, their pale faces dark with sadness and a grim sort of satisfaction.

Then everything went black.

_Twenty-one Years Later_

Alyson Eleanor Kirkland-Jones (New York City) paused before entering the room, her lips curving upwards into a wicked grin when she saw the heavy blackout curtains that had been drawn across the windows. She crept into the room, her green bunny-shaped slippers padding quietly against the polished wooden floor before they reached the cushioning silence of a worn black carpet. With a practiced flick of the wrist, the American swept the curtains off of the windows, allowing bright sunlight to flood into the room in a warm golden glow.

"Aaaaggghhh! Bloody hell, turn it off! Turn off the fucking lights, God damn you!"

Alyson giggled and launched herself onto the bed that had been pushed against the back wall of the room, her knees smashing into the larger teen that was huddled beneath the black-and-red plaid blankets with a satisfying thud.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty~!" she sang cheerfully. "It's time to wake up!"

"Alyson..." Aedan Shakespeare Kirkland-Jones (London) growled, his voice muffled by the pillow that was currently pressed against his pale face. "I swear to God, if you don't get the _hell_ out of my room in the next ten seconds-"

"Finish that threat and I'll tell Mum and Dad where you went last night," Alyson interrupted sweetly. "I'm sure Mum would _love_ to know how close you and Fritz came to getting chucked into an insane asylum after you ran through most of Central Park screaming about zombie Fruit Loops."

Aedan's mouth snapped closed with an audible 'click', his bright blue eyes narrowing dangerously. His older sister giggled and ruffled his already-messy golden-brown hair before she danced out of the room, her long blonde hair swinging merrily across her shoulders. She glanced back into the room moments later, her glasses flashing in the sunlight that continued to pour into the room.

"Don't take too long getting ready, got it?" she chirped. "We've got a meeting today~"

Aedan groaned and fell heavily back into the pillows, his sister's laughter ringing in his ears.

"Damn my life," he moaned.

"...Papa is going to kill you."

Daniil Immanuil Braginski-Williams (Toronto) settled back into the plush brown armchair with a small pout, his bright violet eyes flashing defiantly beneath his pale blond hair.

"I didn't do anything wrong," he muttered sullenly.

Katerina Ivanova Braginski-Williams (Moscow) sighed heavily and shot a martyred look at her older brother. Marc (Vancouver) merely shrugged, his expression strangely amused despite the circumstances.

"I still want to know how you managed to convince them to give it to you," Marc mused. "Most tatoo parlors ask minors for their parent's permission, you know."

Daniil scowled, a light purple aura rising up around his slim shoulders. "I'm almost 16..."

"You don't look it," Marc pointed out cheerfully, his smile widening when the younger boy's aura thickened.

"How do you plan to _hide_ it, anyways?" Katerina asked hastily, her lilac eyes flickering uneasily between the two brothers as she slipped a red headband onto her head. A small smile spread across her lips as her pale fingers brushed against the white maple leaf that had been embroidered into the fabric before moving to the warm pink scarf that had been wrapped around her neck. "It isn't exactly subtle..."

Daniil glanced down at the his exposed stomach, his eyes focusing on the double-crested eagle that had been tattooed onto the skin just inches above his left hip. "Simple: I just won't take my shirt off in front of _maman_ (**mama**) for the next few centuries."

"And what happens in the summer when we visit Uncle Alfred in Florida?" Marc pointed out. "Or are you planning on avoiding beaches for the rest of your life?"

"You two are making things way more complicated than they need to b-"

"_Daniil Immanuil, ce au nom de Dieu est sur votre peau?_ (**What in God's name is on your skin?**)"

The three siblings jumped at the sound of Canada's voice and slowly turned around with varying expressions of guilt, their eyes widening when they caught sight of Russia hovering curiously over Canada's shoulder.

Ivan's eyebrows disappeared into his white-blond hair when he caught sight of his son's tattoo, a shocked smile making its way onto his lips.

"Мне нравится (**I like it**)," he stated simply. "Although... next time you might want to get a maple leaf, Danitka. It might make your punishment less severe."

Daniil managed a weak smile, the blood rising into his cheeks when he caught sight of the exasperated look in Matthew's eyes.

"Uh... _D__é__sol__é_ (**Sorry**)?" he offered hesitantly.

Marc chuckled and subtly dragged Katerina out of the room as Canada began to scold their younger brother, his violet eyes meeting Russia's with an amused twinkle before they ducked into the kitchen.

"Maybe we should start on those pancakes, eh?" he whispered.

Katerina smiled and nodded before straightening the glasses that had slipped onto the edge of her nose. "Danitka can make it up to us later, da?"

"_Oui_."

"_Hermana_ (**Sister**), I really don't think that this is a good idea." Isabella Maria Carriedo-Vargas (Madrid) whispered fearfully, her hazel eyes locked fearfully on the dark wood of her brother's door.

"Aw, c'mon Bella!" Margarita Luciana Carriedo-Vargas (Barcelona) scoffed. The olive-skinned girl tossed a lock of her long auburn hair over her shoulder before sending a scathing glare in the direction of her twin. "It's _Cielo_. _per l'amor de D__é__u_ (**for God's sake**)."

"You know _pap__á_ doesn't like it when you use that language," Isabella pointed out quietly.

Margarita's expression darkened at the mention of her father, her bright green eyes flickering away uneasily. "It's _my_ language... And stop trying to change the subject, will you?"

The older twin smiled sheepishly, only to have the smile slip from her lips as they turned back to the door.

"...I still say that we should let him sleep."

"_Mare_ (**Mom**) told us to wake him up," Margarita reminded her smugly. "We have a meeting today, remember?"

Isabella flinched, her eyes widening in unmistakeable fear. "_¿__Tenemos que ir?_ (**Do we have to go?**)"

Barcelona's expression softened. She reached out and clasped her sister's shoulder, her lips curving upwards into a tentative smile.

"Don't be afraid," she told her gently. "..._Todo ir__á__ bien_ (**Everything will be okay**)."

"Why should I go, anyways?" Madrid murmured. "No one even notices I'm there, and when they do they only ask me how I'm going to fix my economy..."

"You need to go because you're important," Margarita snapped fiercely. "You're the capital of _Espa__ñ__a_! Now c'mon, we need to wake up that lazy-ass brother of ours."

"No, wait, Rita-"

Margarita kicked open the heavy wooden door, a wicked smile already plastered across her face.

"_Aixeca't I brilla, mandr__ó__s!_ (**Rise and shine, lazy!**)" she crowed triumphantly. "Come on, wake up you dam- Oh my God."

Isabella grimaced as her twin's expression morphed from sadistic glee to wide-eyed horror, her slim hand raised modestly in front of her eyes as she inched into the room behind her sister.

"_Lo siento, hermano_ (**I'm sorry, brother**)," she offered quietly. "_Y_ (**And**)... Achilles."

Cielo's amber eyes narrowed into furious slits at the sight of his sisters, his cheeks flaring a bright, nearly impossible red. The slim Italian started to sit up, only to freeze as the small movement caused his white sheets to fall from his naked chest to pool around his bare hips. An olive-toned hand reached out to tug lazily at a lock of Sicily's dark hair, its owner's sleepy features nearly unreadable aside from the small glimmer of amusement in his chocolate-brown eyes.

"καλημέρα (**Good morning**)," he greeted the younger girls easily. "Is it... time for the meeting already?"

"_Dannazione_ (**God dammit**)," Cielo groaned. "Remind me to tell your sister that she needs to make these damn things later in the day."

"I-It's already noon, ass-hole," Margarita snapped, her cheeks still red as she struggled not to stare at the well-defined muscles of Athen's bare chest and arms. "Not our fault you two stayed up all night..."

"Not all night," Isabella informed her pleasantly. "Achilles didn't get in until around one in the morning."

Margarita stared at the other girl for a long moment, her emerald eyes widening in a mixture of awe and horror. "You... knew...?"

Madrid flashed her sister a beatific smile, a surprisingly-wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Who do you think unlocked the door?"

"...Why the hell are _we_ always the first ones here?"

Magnus Friederich Vargas-Beilschmidt (Berlin) sighed and shot his twin a martyred look. Francisco (Milan) merely chuckled and threw an arm around his sister's shoulders, his blue eyes twinkling merrily in the sunlight. He flashed a cheerful smile at the security guards that were standing in front of the United Nations building, only to frown slightly when a auburn blur rushed past him.

"Niccolo," he hissed warningly. "Don't-"

Niccolo Rafaelo Vargas-Beilschmidt (Florence) only smirked, his golden-brown eyes wide with unconvincing innocence as he skipped up to his mother's side. Italy smiled down at his youngest son and reached out to ruffle the boy's hair, apparently oblivious to Germany's skeptical glance. Ludwig glanced over his shoulder towards his three older children, his chin lowering in a small nod towards Magnus. Berlin sighed and glanced towards his sister, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

Louisa Vittoria Vargas-Beilschmidt (Munich) rolled her eyes and stormed up to the nearest security guard, her hazel eyes flashing dangerously beneath her cropped blonde hair as she held out a calloused white hand.

"_Übergeben Sie es_ (**Hand it over**)," she snapped irritably.

The guard shifted guiltily before handing over a small slip of paper. Louisa simply raised her eyebrow before continuing into the building. Francisco chuckled and clapped the guard on the shoulder on his way to the door.

"You should thank us, you know," he quipped cheerfully. "The last time someone tried to call that number, they ended up stranded in the Alps for two weeks."

"I'm still not sure how he managed that," Magnus mused. He paused when he caught sight of a dark-haired teen waiting patiently for them in the hallway, her chin-length black hair tucked neatly behind her ears. "_Hallo_ (**Hello**), Sai."

Saichi Cassandra Honda-Karpusi (Tokyo) flashed Berlin a small smile, her moss-green eyes glinting with something that could almost be called mischief as two dark-haired teenagers stalked into the building behind the twin brother flanked by two nearly-identical teenage girls.

"おはようございます (**Good morning**), Achilles," she greeted quietly. "Cielo... Did you two sleep well?"

Cielo rolled his eyes and muttered something about idiotic younger sisters before he continued to stalk down the hallway after the younger girls. Achilles flashed his sister a sleepy grin and reached out to pull the cursing Italian into his chest.

"...Can we take another nap now?" Athens mumbled.

"We have a meeting, dumbass," Cielo snapped.

"...So we can?"

Sicily rolled his eyes and dragged his boyfriend towards the meeting room, his lips curving upwards into a small smile when the sounds of Niccolo and Louisa arguing poured into the hallway.

"Will you two shut the hell up? _Dio_, it's too damn early for me to have a headache!" he yelled into the room.

"Stay out of this, _Vetter_ (**Cousin**)!" Munich screamed back. "Why are you so late?"

"I'm not fucking _late_, potato bi-"

"Finish that sentence, Cielo, and I'll kick your ass," Berlin called coolly.

"Kesesese~ Wow, already?" Andras "Fritz" Hedervary-Beilschmidt (Budapest) laughed, his silver hair glowing in the dim light of the hallway. The Hungarian stepped back to let his bickering parents into the room, his red-brown eyes glittering wickedly when a man with chocolate-brown hair and irritated violet eyes stepped carefully into the building, his fingers curled surreptitiously around the slim hand of an angry Swiss man.

"_Mi van, nagybácsik?_ (**What's up, Uncles**?)" Fritz called cheerfully. "Where are my favorite cousins?"

"Really?" Magnus commented coolly. "Then maybe you should call Kurt and Seb the next time you get thrown in prison, then, _Ungarisch_ (**Hungarian**)."

"If he tries it, I swear to God I'll shoot him," Kurt Mozart Zwingli-Edelstein (Vienna) snapped, his violet eyes flashing beneath his short blond hair. Vienna glared at Fritz as he walked past, his left hand inching towards the handgun that was probably hidden in the waistband of his black skinny jeans.

Another boy with chin-length light-brown hair and sea-green eyes followed Vienna with a polite smile, his chin lowering in a respectful nod to the other four cities.

"_Guten Morgen_ (**Good morning**)," Sebastian Bach Zwingli-Edelstein (Geneva) greeted them. "Have any of you seen Akiana?"

"L-Like, here I am," a soft voice called timidly.

Geneva's smile widened as he turned around, his eyes focusing immediately on the shivering blonde with shy green eyes that was half-hidden behind Poland and Lithuania. Akiana Laurenitis-Lukaçiewz (Warsaw) forced herself to smile at the other cities, her pale fingers tugging anxiously at the collar of her bright pink sweater.

"S-sorry we're, like, late," she whispered.

"Liet was, like, totally making us wait and stuff," Poland piped up dismissively as he dragged his husband after Switzerland and Austria, apparently oblivious to the half-exasperated look that Lithuania was sending his way.

"...Funny, I thought we were late because _you_ insisted on making Akiana change her clothes, _mylimasis_ (**darling**)..."

"Yeah, but, Liet I couldn't let her leave the house dressed in _brown_! It's, like, totally not her color!"

Akiana winced and flashed Sebastian an apologetic smile as the Swiss boy led her into the meeting room, her thin shoulders stiffening when loud yells spilled out of the open doorway. Magnus chuckled dryly and flashed his companions a small smile.

"...Should we go in before they start killing each other, or after?" he asked.

"We'd probably get more done if there were less of us," Saichi mused quietly.

"Ve~ I didn't know you had such an evil side to you, Sai," Francisco laughed. "You can go in if you want to, _fratello_. I'm going to wait out here until Aly comes. She told me that she was going to be a little late today. Something about Aedan having a hangover..."

"_Ked af det_ (**Sorry about that**)!"

Fritz gave a loud cheer as a tall Dane with pale blond hair nearly skipped into the building, a silent girl with spiky golden hair and unreadable indigo eyes at his side. A taller blond boy with hard sapphire eyes moved silently behind the siblings, his arm wrapped gently around the shoulder of a smaller boy with identical blond hair and soft purple eyes.

Topi Vihtori Vainamönen-Oxenstierna (Helsinki) smiled and waved cheerfully at the German brothers, his indigo eyes gleaming behind wire-rimmed glasses. Davin Eduard Vainamönen-Oxenstierna (Stockholm) tried to smile as well, only to stop when Francisco and Fritz shifted away from his gaze. The Swede's cheeks flushed a delicate pink and he turned away, his eyes narrowing into a glare when his Danish cousin began to snicker.

"_Hyvää huomenta!_ (**Good morning**!)," Topi chirped. "I'm so sorry we're late. Mom and Dad were going to take us earlier, but I, uh, slept in a little and Dav said that he could take me, but then Christian called and asked if we could give him and Freya a ride because Christian went out drinking last night so he was-"

"It's alright," Saichi assured him quietly. She nodded slightly as the blonde girl walked past her, earning a small smile from Freya (Oslo) in return.

"Yeah, Aedan decided he needed to show off his dad's bars again," Christian Bondevik-Køhler (Copenhagen) chuckled. "Too bad the _lapsi_ (**kid**) got wasted after his second shot."

A hand came out of nowhere and connected with the back of the Dane's head with an audible "smack". Copenhagen yelped and glared sullenly at the British teen that had appeared behind him.

London returned Christian's glare with a scorching look before stomping down the hall, his cobalt-blue eyes narrowing into slits when Alyson's loud laughter echoed from behind him. The American teen winked at her friends and skipped cheerfully to Francisco's side, her lips pressing against his in a chaste kiss just as the three Russo-Canadian siblings came in behind her. Daniil rolled his eyes at his cousin's display, his lips quirking upwards into a shy smirk when he caught sight of Fritz.

"Hey," Toronto called casually. "You wanna see my new tatoo?"

"Ohonhonhon~ May I see it too, aru?"

Fritz grimaced and shot a playful glare in the direction of the two dark-haired siblings that had just walked into the room. Jian Li Wang (Beijing) winked suggestively towards his friend before continuing on into the meeting room, his expression brightening immediately the minute he opened the door.

"Louisa!" he cried jubilantly. "我的爱，你怎么样？(**My love, how are you?**)"

"_Bleiben die Hölle weg von mir, pervers!_ (**Stay the hell away from me, you pervert!**)" Munich yelled.

Magnus sighed heavily and walked towards the meeting room, his cheeks flushing slightly when he caught Katerina's sympathetic glance. He smiled slightly in return, only to stiffen when Jian's sister giggled.

"Ah, _l'amour_," Jeanne Antoinette Bonnefoy (Paris) sighed. "And speaking of which... where is my darling _Anglais_ (**Englishman**)?"

"He should be in the meeting room," Fritz mused, his eyes glittering wickedly. "Daniil and I will take you, right _édesség_ (**sweetie**)?"

Daniil snorted but allowed the Prusso-Hungarian to pull him away. Saichi sighed quietly and followed them with Marc and Katerina by her sides. Alyson grinned and made to follow them, her emerald eyes widening behind her glasses when she caught sight of the small green fairy hovering a few inches away from her nose.

"Tink!" she called cheerfully. Francisco glanced back at her with a knowing smile and hurried after his friends, his curl bobbing cheerfully above his auburn head.

Tink smiled and flew closer to the American girl, her tiny lips curving into a sad smile. New York City frowned at the sight and reached out for the creature, her expression concerned.

"Something wrong?" Alyson asked quietly.

"No... No, I'm fine," Tink insisted. After a moment, the fairy added "You're late, you know. I've been waiting for you."

Alyson laughed and shook her head. "You're nuts, Tink. What, didn't you think that I would make it?"

"Of course not," the fairy scoffed. "I never doubted you...Ah, by the way, I think that last scream was your brother's."

"Eh, Jeanne probably tried to jump him again... but, yeah, I should probably go in there before they get into a fight without me again."

"GOD DAMN YOU, YOU FROG, GET THE BLOODY HELL OFF OF ME!"

"Jesus, Aedan, would you lower your voice?" Alyson yelled as she stomped into the meeting room. "Or are you trying to give the security guards a heart attack again?"

"That was one time-"

"Really? What about that time three weeks ago when Niccolo smashed a pie in your face..."

**Okay, so, a few things that I need to put down here before I officially declare this lovely fanfic finished, muahahaha!**

**1- Just putting it out there that I actually don't approve of violent revenge in real life but... eh, it seemed to fit here and I personally think that all of the countries have a nice violent streak in them. I'll leave it up to you guys to decide whether or not Randal and Henry were killed.**

**2- Obviously, there are a lot more kids at the end of this fic than there were at the beginning (I promise I'll go into their personalities more in my next fanfic, since a lot of you guys seemed to like Option 1). So... Yeah, here are the kids' names and their cities:**

** USUK kids: Alyson Eleanor Kirkland-Jones/New York City**

** Aedan Shakespeare Kirkland-Jones/London**

** RusCan kids: Marc Lucien Braginski-Williams/Vancouver**

** Katerina Ivanova Braginski-Williams/Moscow**

** Daniil Immanuil Braginski-Williams/Toronto**

** Spamano kids: Cielo Romano Carriedo-Vargas/Sicily**

** Isabella Maria Carriedo-Vargas/Madrid**

** Margharita Luciana Carriedo-Vargas/Barcelona**

** GerIta kids: Francisco "Cisco" Michelangelo Vargas-Beilschmidt/Milan**

** Magnus Friederich Vargas-Beilschmidt/Berlin**

** Louisa Vittoria Vargas-Beilschmidt/Munich**

** Niccolo Rafaelo Vargas-Beilschmidt/Florence**

** Giripan kids: Saichi Cassandra Honda-Karpusi/Tokyo**

** Achilles Taiyou Honda-Karpusi/Athens**

** PruHun kid: Andras "Fritz" Hedervary-Beilschmidt/Budapest**

** FranChu kids (that's a looonnngg story): Jian Li Wang/Beijing**

** Jeanne Antoinette Bonnefoy/Paris**

** SwissAus kids: Kurt Mozart Zwingli-Edelstein/Vienna**

** Sebastian Bach Zwingli-Edelstein/Geneva**

** SuFin kids: Davin Eduard Vainamönen-Oxenstierna/Stockholm**

** Topi Vihtori Vainamönen-Oxenstierna/Helsinki**

** DenNor kids: Freya Bondevik-Køhler/Oslo**

** Christian Bondevik-Køhler/Copenhagen**

** LietPol: Akiana Laurenitis-Lukaçiewz/Warsaw**

**Well, that's it hahaha. Thank you guys sooo much for staying with me through everything! Every single review made me really happy. Thank you, you guys rock!**

**-Luxio Nyx**


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